Almost Had You
by ser3ne eternity
Summary: Chiba Mamoru was what you would call intense. Almost unbearably so. Tsukino Usagi, however was unbearably intense. Suffice to say, their encounters would prove hazardous to each other's health. REPOSTED under new author name. On hold, sorry.
1. Chapter 1

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Almost Had You

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Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

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_"Can you hear it?"_

_"Hear what?"_

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

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_TA-DA_

"_She's different. She annoys the hell out of me, but she just had to be the wittiest and most gorgeous person I've ever met…Why does she have to be so complicated?"_

_-Chiba Mamoru_

Chapter 1  
_them_ _big_ _baby_ _blues_

I can hear the music thrumming, causing the ground to quake under the soles of my immaculately shining dress shoes, where beams of red, blue, green and purple play across the lighter walls or material of clothes in the room.

A soft waltz is playing in the background allowing couples of old and young to sway together lovingly under a prism of strobe lights in the shadowed room, a designated dance floor located in the heart of the area.

I watch the proceedings indifferently and my coal black locks fall into my eyes casually while shadows crawl across my profile momentarily. I gaze lazily at the people enjoying the reception under lidded eyes with a hand in my pocket. Hands 

are linked and fingers are interlaced tenderly while looks of affection are exchanged along with a side dish of laughter from jokes at the expense of a man's female counterpart whose heels click against the hardwood surface of the floor.

I don't know how they can survive these long hours in those blasted high heels…

Whatever though, their problem—not mine.

And I look around some more, hoping to find that familiar face…

Photographers can be seen lazing around, cameras strung across their necks or in their hands. They take pictures of each couple to document the memories into a big white album as their pay asks them to, just as the DJ relaxes with the lulling beat of the song.

I sigh in exasperation when I can't find the face I'm looking for.

Instead, I see clear glasses filled with high-end alcohol tipping against each other in a toast to clink an elegant ding in the room.

Tables fill the plush carpeted floor, draped with exquisite ivory tablecloths.

Vases of striking crimson roses are pressed so closely together they caress each other's petals in a soft touch, flowing from radiant jaded stems trimmed of prickling thorns in the center of each table.

There are empty plates on some of them, signaling that the guest is finished with his or her meal of cheap catering food lacking any proper taste or enough weight to fill one's stomach long enough.

At least that's what I think.

But that's fine because alcohol is served in return, to sate the still growling hunger inside for the time being.

Red wine.

A deep rich maroon…

_Sick_.

White wine.

Crystal clear in the light…

…Nah.

Champagne.

Too classy, even for my tastes…

Chardonnay.

Hmm, chardonnay…?

Okay, wait.

My irritation with this event was beginning to shine through and I could just imagine my ocean eyes blazing on the outside.

Chardonnay.

Seriously…

What the hell _was_ that?!

What the hell did a man have to do for a simple _beer_ around here, people…?

Oh.

I rake my fingers through my hair and scowl at my situation sulkily.

Right.

I forgot.

I'm at a goddamn wedding.

Yep, that's right—a wedding.

…And it made me _sick._

I couldn't believe I was actually here.

I was such a loser, just standing against one of the walls in a corner where those pesky photographers left me alone.

And for some reason, even though I completely _detested_ wine, I accepted a glass from one of the older men who had insisted I try some because it was 'good' for me.

I guess I did it because I didn't feel like arguing with them or giving them a reason to tell me one of their 'back in their day' stories.

Because that would've just _sucked._

And my glass was _still_ full of wine because I had left it untouched and I dismissed any caterers that came my way asking if I wanted a refill.

Of _course_ I need a refill…

It's fucking filled to the brim!

Why would I need a refill??

Honestly, are these people blind?

I roll my eyes in memory of how some of the female ones had tried to flirt, while the others were just plain bitches…

I was on my last string of patience here, okay?

And seriously…?

If I could, I would damn everything about this stupid experience if it hadn't been for something holding me back…

But I could still complain, couldn't I?

Like for instance…damn this suit.

And damn this tie for being so _damn_ constricting.

I can't _breathe!_

All this noise is giving me a headache, and my eyes are starting to hurt from the flashing lights—and why are these people so happy?

Why?!

They shouldn't be happy!!

Well okay, maybe they should be because we're at a wedding but…

I grit my teeth before relaxing in resignation.

Random thought here, but damn…I wish I wore sneakers…

And then my thoughts echoed in my mind tauntingly and I scrunched my face up in disgust.

I sounded like such a _diva._

Which is wrong…

In so many ways.

Because I'm a guy.

And guys aren't supposed to care this much—but I do.

I seriously do.

And the reason why?

It's simple.

It's because I don't want to be here right now.

Aha, call me stupid but that was just so _obvious_.

Really though, all this true love shit was making me nauseous, with the whole 'I do' and forever crap with the ring to signify it.

People get divorced all the time—so why should you even bother?

Really.

True love is eight letters long, I know that, but then again—so is _bullshit_.

So what idiot _buys_ that load of bull?

Oh, I don't know—_wow_, aren't I just a load of peaches?

I let out a sarcastic sigh and my eyes shift over to my left—apparently _they_ do…

There they are, gliding across the floor in perfect harmony, _completely_ in tune with the other as they dip, spin and box step their way into causing wonder to spark in their audience's eyes.

And who wouldn't stare, when the bride is looking stunningly delicious in a flowing white strapless wedding dress, contrasting sophisticatedly with the groom's black slacks and polished shoes, his jacket abandoned but his silk black tie still present with his white dress shirt's sleeves folded to his elbows.

Don't forget about the bride's unique lemon locks pulled up in a chic up-do, ringlets of tresses framing her healthy porcelain skin. A string of pearls dangle from her swanlike neck with matching earrings and her hands have been freed from their gloves to fit perfectly in her husband's.

And the groom is dashing with his deep strawberry blonde locks and even darker hazel eyes, a shade of amber peeking underneath them every now and then to peer into his newlywed wife's cornflower blue orbs.

His slightly callused hand grips hers gently and an arm wraps around her waist protectively with his bronzed skin.

And maybe I made that sound more exaggerated than it might actually be…but that's how it seemed in my eyes as I watched them move with the music along with everybody else…

They do.

_They _believe in that true love, 'I do', and forever with the ring to signify it, bullshit that I have so decidedly shunned.

I should know, because they're two of my best friends.

And get this—here's the clincher—I'm the best man.

Now—don't get me wrong, I think that love _is_ a bunch of bull but I'm not saying I don't think it exists, at least I don't think it doesn't exist right _now_—did my contradicting myself just then confuse you...because it sort of confused me...but whatever. Anyways, as I was saying...

When it comes to my two best friends getting hitched… then of course love existed.

Because it really does—Minako and Motoki are living proof… they're the bride and groom by the way.

But I should probably rephrase what I said earlier to this…

Love only existed for _some_ people.

I roll my eyes…

What lucky bastards, they were…

But I digress.

You're probably wondering why I'm such a cold jerk—complete with the icicle up his ass—that he doesn't even want to be at his own best friends' wedding.

Well, I'll tell you.

Alright, so here's how it goes.

Two years ago, after I graduated high school I decided to go to University.

Simple enough, right?

It happens all the time when teens graduate from that Hell on Earth called '_high school'_.

I was still eighteen and Motoki was nineteen, about two months older than me.

Anyways, when I decided to go to Tokyo U in the city, my parents decided to just do a big move and leave their comfortable life in the mansion we lived in, in a quieter city.

Motoki and his family came with us too, since his parents were best friends with mine and it had been that way ever since _they_ were younger… it's kind of cliché actually, but I find that they're really lucky to have been friends for so long…

And that's why when we all moved, Motoki's family shared the same house as my own.

Something about them all needing to be there to make sure I stayed out of trouble.

They're smart like that.

Backing up on track though, I went to University with my best friend Motoki right behind me the whole way as we moved to the city—from our 'pampered' lifestyle, I guess you could say—and that's where after being on the waiting list for two months, we were finally able to settle in and start our classes along with everyone else.

We opted to live in a dorm like everybody else instead of sharing the house with our family, even though it was relatively more than big enough to accommodate Motoki, our sisters, Rei and Unazuki, our parents and me.

Because privacy was much more desired for us—which was why we moved into the dorm without complaint.

When we got there, I was still finishing up unpacking when Motoki decided that he was going to go around sightseeing for a while to get to know the city we just moved to.

And that's how Motoki met Minako.

Now the moment those two hit it off, I knew they were going to make it.

Because when Motoki had come back to the dorm that day he met Minako in the café—talking too fast and stumbling over his words while making large hand gestures with a stupid smile on his face—I knew he was already a goner.

Hook, line and sinker.

He just didn't know it yet.

And for the next little while, all I heard about was Minako this or Minako that.

It was cute, I guess, but I was a guy so I didn't think cute—I thought _annoying_.

He was so whipped and strung on this 'Minako' that I had half a mind to just walk off while he was still talking and catch a random broad somewhere along the way for a quick date that would be ensured by my smooth talking…

He asked me two months later to come meet with him, saying something about introducing me to this wonderful girl he couldn't get enough of—his _golden_ girl.

I was skeptical and didn't give a shit at the time—well okay, so maybe I did give a shit because it had to do with my best friend and while I _could_ be a jerk, Motoki and I had been friends since we were kids—so obligation and loyalty won out over easy sex with my recent conquest…

I met her at the receptionist office when we were both signing and registering into the University… but that's not important.

So anyway, here's the truth—which you can probably already guess…

I was—am? I don't know anymore, but I like to think I'm past that phase already, you'll find out why in a bit—a player.

I didn't give a damn about love.

To me, it was worthless. It was just something to tie you down, to keep you from living your life to the fullest because in reality—life truly was what you made of it…and man, was that a huge motto for me.

Yet here was my best friend, doing the exact _opposite_ of what I tried to stay away from.

He went and fell in love, stuck with one girl, became a one-woman man…

Okay fine, well he...atually he was always a one-woman man.

He didn't believe in frivolous things such as flings, and I respected that. I left him alone to entertain his thoughts of happily ever after, even though I myself didn't believe in it at all.

Whatever though, I was just cynical like that… I can't even remember my reason for being that way though.

Because I was rich, good-looking, got good grades, good sports… and the ladies loved me.

I think somewhere deep down though I always knew that there was something lacking. Maybe that was why I was so shallow back then. So I didn't have to think too hard about that 'something more' crap, that I didn't even care about my best friend's sudden discovery of happiness.

I had moments where I was a selfish jackass…a lot of them.

_But_ I _did_ know how to be a good friend, and just in case you're wondering—no, I have _never_ gotten with any of Motoki's girls.

I was a player, not a home wrecker people.

Anyways, back to before.

When he said _please_ and asked me to come again, it was serious.

Dear _God_, it was serious.

He never used that one on me before!

It was either threat or guilt.

This girl was a miracle…!

So I stood up my date with that leggy redhead guiltlessly and without protest—I realized that she was a bit too clingy for my taste after I asked her out.

And I have to say, I'm glad I did because when I first met Minako I thought she was pretty cute. She had the whole innocent girl-next-door type of thing going on for her and I could tell why Motoki liked her so much.

He was never one for the wild ones that I found highly attractive, so to speak.

But in layman's terms, Motoki was the boyish and likable all around good guy while Minako was the hyper yet delicate beauty.

They were perfect for each other and—hold on, I'm getting there—seeing them together got me thinking, just a _little bit_, enough for it to feel like I was forgetting something but couldn't remember what.

The things I thought went something along the lines of this…

I knew I was a jerk because I had experienced being showered with affection by the opposite sex for as long as I could remember. It got to the point where I forgot the morality my mother instilled in me from earlier years until it was honestly just a good rut to me.

Or a nice past time…whatever works.

This brings me back to the 'something more' bit I expressed earlier.

All the girls I'd ever been with had been superficial and their beauty was only skin-deep because they looked to me for my looks, and apparently my wealth since I came from a well-off family.

And some guys I had been _friends_ with were only around me to get the ladies…which were my leftovers but whatever floats their boats, right?

I guess the reason why I put up with…_them_…was because they gave me a reason to do something with myself.

The guys would challenge and bet me I couldn't get a girl, I would go after said girl, we'd hook up and then it'd be done.

I accepted this shallow cycle that was my life because I got what I wanted from the girls I was with, they got what they wanted from me—priceless jewelry that didn't mean a thing when I gave it to them, along with mutual physical satisfaction—and then we were fulfilled and would go our separate ways.

End of story, no strings attached, no questions asked…

Well, for most of them that is, because sometimes I'd go for the ones who would actually treasure our 'relationship'… those were the ones that actually thought what we had meant something.

Which it didn't.

And I was the heartless bastard that broke their hearts.

But here's where we get to the good part.

The _point_ is, unlike all the other girls—it was Minako's best friend that struck something in me.

Sometimes I'm still stunned into silence, _to this day_; how those two ever became and stayed friends for so long… they were complete opposites.

Maybe I shouldn't be so shocked though because so are Motoki and I.

But that's beside the point.

I hadn't been expecting her.

Minako's best friend was…she was a piece of work is what I'll say, a real spitfire at heart with a wicked temper, sharp tongue and keen intuition—she knew I was no good from the very start, point blank.

While Minako was demure, sweet and sometimes shy, her best friend was anything but. In fact, her best friend was bold in her thoughts and her actions—she wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind and well, she could be sweet when she wanted to be but she _definitely_ wasn't the girl-next-door…

I found it amazing that I could never place her in the 'bitch' category; because she never crossed that boundary in our earlier stages …she was just very blunt in her statements.

She probably had to be though since she was the grounded realist that balanced out Minako's hopeless romantic self.

And that made me curious about her, the way she reacted so entirely different to me and everything else unlike her fellow females in general.

And there was something about the way she made _me_ act around her that succeeded in intriguing me even more.

At first it was annoying.

I didn't need some pesky girl being the constant focus of my mind.

But the more I tried not to think about it, the more I ended up doing the exact opposite.

It got to the point where I finally just started indulging my curiosity of her. I found myself engaging with her in anything to grasp her attention for a while longer than the rest who had failed in doing so just so I could try to figure her out.

Even if it was just a piece of her.

So I did the only thing I figured I could do, but she didn't go for it too well.

If I flirted with her, she would end it.

If I tried to compliment her, she would insult me while still maintaining a polite and subtle air...most of the time...

And that took skill…

If I smiled at her, she would scowl or frown at me—and holy frick, she _still_ managed to look good when she was pissed off…

I guess you could say it became a sort of game of cat and mouse.

I lost all interest in the other girls on campus trying to obtain my attention until the only girl I ever paid attention to was when I unknowingly paid attention to her.

At the time, I had been impressed with the way she escaped my plans for seduction or anything of the sort all the time so effortlessly. Later on one day, she ended up confronting me instead of evading me like many had done only to succumb later.

She told me straight out what she thought of me that day—that I was some charismatic player that she couldn't _stand_. I was someone that pissed her off with the way I thought she would fall all over herself just because of me.

Basically she said I was self-centered and that she was surprised I hadn't exploded from my ego being too big for me yet.

She even went so far as to demand that I tell her _why_ I paid her so much attention.

I remember that she had sputtered in front of me for the first time in indignation and hurled another—quite effective—insult my way when she noticed my eyes were shimmering with mirth after I got over the initial shock at her frankness. It only served to amuse me even more, and I honestly don't remember when was the last time I laughed so hard when she stared at me, deadpanned.

Me, being reckless—told her why.

I told her she was someone so elusively spirited that I couldn't help but be curious about her. She was someone that hadn't reacted to me the way everyone else had—to which she had scoffed in annoyance.

And I continued, saying that I found her interesting and that I wanted to know what made her so different.

When I finished my explanation she had raised her brow at me and I could vaguely register the minor disdain and reluctance in her eyes before she murmured to me that _maybe_ I should try talking to her instead of flirting or being suggestive.

_See?!_

That was why I was so curious about her.

I was expecting another put-down from her as a way to try and deter me, but instead she gave me a suggestion—even if she might've not meant it—on what I could do to gain her trust, although I wasn't sure that was what I was trying to earn in the long run…but I found out what it was I wanted from her later on.

I ended up taking her suggestion.

You could say our relationship was abusive but that was only in the start because I'd been going about it the wrong way.

When I followed her hint, it was only to satisfy my curiosity and get what I wanted to know about her, but soon our 'relationship' developed into something else.

Something I hadn't expected like many things when it came to her.

At first there were arguments, some petty and some reasonable about certain things and there were definitely some disagreements that led to fights. These fights were where we would ignore each other for a little while to cool off our equally matched tempers before we would catch up again and be back to what it was like before.

And somewhere later on, I stopped talking to her just for the sake of my curiosity and personal satisfaction. Soon, I talked to her because I _wanted _to, because I _liked_ talking to her.

And that's when we became friends.

But that's not the end of it—because that's where I was stupid enough to think that I thought we were _just_ friends.

Because without realizing it, I started thinking of her as more than that.

It started small.

I found myself laughing and smiling around her more often, but I'd brushed it off as just enjoying her company since I was like that around Motoki and Minako, too.

And I knew I only had strictly platonic feelings for Minako as another sister, so I figured it was the same with her.

I didn't notice that I laughed louder or stuff like that around her more than any guy, girl or person…because not even Minako got me to do that even though they were _both_ supposed to be like sisters to me.

Because then I started to think about her a little more than necessary. I figured it was just because something in class reminded me of her though.

That was normal, right?

People get reminded of their friends all the time.

So I shrugged it off.

But then things started getting _weirder_.

I zoned out whenever she talked to me, and I found myself staring at her a little longer than what could be deemed normal before she would have to wave her hand in front of my face and poke me since she knew it annoyed me.

Usually it only took her finger coming in closer contact before I would snap out of it and move away, but then it got to the point where she needed to poke my chest with her nail at least three times before I came to.

I noticed that I started stuttering around her, like every sentence was just another tongue twister for me that I couldn't get right. And more than once, she looked at me strangely and asked me if I had a fever.

I lost my smooth talking skills around her and looked like a complete _dork_ every time I came up with non-too-believable excuses.

It didn't help when she would sometimes feel my forehead with her hand to check my temperature…I just started feeling zings of electricity from her and she would frown in worry when she felt me heat up underneath her fingertips.

My denial started turning into panic because I knew then, that I had never felt this way about anyone.

…Okay, God, that sounded corny but moving on!

She got me dizzy to the point where I couldn't walk straight unless she helped me—which made matters worse because I would become plagued by the urge to kiss her.

The first time it happened one day, we were sitting under a tree and reviewing some notes for a similar class we both took. We took a break for a little while and just talked. I made her laugh at something I said and my focus went all messed up.

Go figure.

It was just..._strange_.

All of a sudden, I just _blanked out_ and I didn't even know what I was doing. I just got all caught up in the color of her eyes and the way she pulled her hair back from the breeze so she could see and then...and then I...

I caught myself leaning closer to her and glancing at her lips, and all I could think about was just..._kissing her_. I could feel blood pumping loudly in my ears and I was suddenly all in her face, before I suddenly pulled back in horror at what I'd almost done. When she looked at me strangely I abruptly told her that I had a paper to finish for some ass of a professor before I jogged the rest of the way to my dorm I shared with Motoki.

That had been the final straw.

I couldn't deny it any longer.

I remember just being sprawled across my bed and staring at the ceiling, wondering why I liked her.

It didn't take me long to find the reason.

Besides the fact that she was gorgeous and easy on the eyes, she had an awesome personality. She wasn't ditzy either. She was smart and wise about things that surprised me she was really only eighteen and my age...at least five months younger than me.

She was talented. She rocked the electric guitar even better than I did. She was quick to learn how to multitask on my snare and kick-drum when I first let her try it out too. She used to hum a song to herself while we studied and then the more we studied together, the more she hummed until finally, I heard her sing for the first time.

And man, did I wish I could paint and draw like her.

It was no wonder she was majoring in the arts with some side courses.

I smiled when the subject she needed my help in was Physics and Pre-Calc—and yes, I _can_ focus on something other than girls when I want to if that's what you were wondering.

But what really, _really_ got me about her though, was that she went straight inside where no one else had ever delved or dared to look before and she did the impossible.

She _understood_ me.

She finished my sentences, read my mind, knew when something was wrong or when I was sick and needed help with something.

She didn't judge me either.

It amazed me that I didn't notice where her dislike she had made clear for me since the beginning had disappeared to, because somewhere down the line… she accepted me.

My faults, my mistakes, my bad habits… everything.

She changed my mind.

She made me believe that forever meant _forever_.

She made me believe that happily ever after _did_ exist.

She made me believe that I was honestly, truly, _irreversibly_ in love with her.

I was so in love with her.

It was practically written all over my face—I swear to God, it was almost embarrassing.

I held out though.

And damn it, don't call me stupid!

Because I cared about her too much to ruin our friendship…

Because shit, I cared a _lot._

That was saying a lot, too.

The fact that I was even _afraid_ to make a move was saying that I really, _really_ cared about this girl.

Because no girl had ever made me think her name and the word _beautiful _in the same sentence.

And what I mean is that she was a rare one.

A diamond in the rough, if you please.

You don't find a girl like her very often.

Because her beauty didn't stop at her skin, it went in all the way to her mind and heart.

Her soul must be a shoo-in for heaven…

How the hell was I supposed to know all that though, when she insulted me so openly and unashamedly that first time I went for my best friend to meet the girl of his dreams…and saw _her_?

With her long, loose silver-golden hair, her generous curves of lightly tanned skin, perfectly kissable lips, melodic voice and laugh, brilliantly dazzling smiled that she graced me with—if I could get myself to think properly long enough to say something…she was just…

_Beautiful._

Like her eyes.

She was just wonderfully, exotically and perfectly _Usagi_.

…I found that face I was looking for.

Standing on the other side, wrapped in a deep maroon silk gown that hugs her curves, she fixes the spaghetti strap on her shoulder and a modest amount of cleavage is revealed through the sweetheart cut-out of her dress' top.

The shapes of her dancer legs are accentuated with mystery beneath the silken skirt of her dress and there's a mesh at her back where it looks like a train that trails after her with each step she takes.

Glossy silver locks, half of it is pulled from her face while the rest cascades down her back in waves. A simple silver chain rests in front of her chest enticingly and a silver charm bracelet from Minako jingles on her wrist.

Eyes are framed with bangs parted in the middle; two stray tresses escape the binds of her tie and hint at the sides of her cheeks.

She wears a minimum amount of make-up and I see that healthy tan and that lightning shock of blue that's raged my mind ever since I hit eighteen.

The maid of honor.

You see; the reason why I'm such a cold hard-ass now is because of her.

The reason why I'm so ticked off about being at this wedding right now was because over the months prior to the wedding—our best friends had called us up and requested for us to help plan the wedding.

And I'm bitter because I know they were up to matchmaking—and I'm bitterer because it almost worked once the heartache subsided into those familiar feelings from before.

But right now…

I sigh regretfully.

I am _so_ screwed.

How the hell was I supposed to know that I had a soft spot for big complicated baby blues before she came and walked into my life again without knocking…?!

Did I just sound as stalker as I think I did?

...Don't answer that.

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_TA-DA_

Tell me what you guys think please! Anything I can do to make it better? Let me know and review! Hope you enjoy this. This is my first attempt at SM fic so if you could be gentle, that'd be nice!

ser3ne eternity.

_aka;; _**azuresass22.**

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	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Almost Had You

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Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

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_"Can you hear it?"_

_"Hear what?"_

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

* * *

_TA-DA_

_"For once in my life, I don't know what to do with him…He makes it so hard to insult him! Nothing bothers him! And what's more, why don't I want to insult him?! Why?!"_

_-Tsukino Usagi_

Chapter 2  
_drowning in essence_

People pass me by, sometimes brushing against me unavoidably in the crowded space of the reception room as they make their way onto the dance floor now that they're finished with their eating.

The thought disgusts me, remembering how no matter where you go—catering companies really suck.

The food was so bland that I wish I brought a burger in my purse with me to eat.

Salad was all good and healthy sure, but even the dressing didn't taste good.

It was such a rip-off paying them at least one grand for this…crap.

But maybe that's just the meat-lover in me, or the frustration talking. And no, I'm not going to tell you why I'm frustrated...It's bad enough that it's even effecting me in the first place, but if I even think about thinking about it...well, I just...better not think about it.

Whoever said all artists were vegetarians must've been completely misled in their stereotypes because that's not even close when it comes to me…and to be blunt? I really didn't care about the whole weight thing for dancers…maybe I would though, if I weren't blessed with such an awesome metabolism.

The alcohol the bar serves doesn't even seem all that worth it to me either.

The drinks are labeled with fancy and pretty names that are meant to trick you into thinking they sound good when really, they taste horrible. And let's not forget the inevitably impending hangover waiting for you in the morning if you do choose to fall for the fake advertising.

Stupid advertisers screwing around with your head—I mean, it's just like how they used to use subliminal messages in the 1940's or whatever year it was on the freaking television—maybe it was more recent, since I'm pretty sure they used radios and that televisions weren't invented yet—to get you to sign up and join the army...and possibly die for a lost cause or petty dispute. I blame the politicians.

Just like I blame the people I see walking tipsily to the bartender asking for another hit right now.

I shake my head at them unsympathetically.

God bless their poor misguided souls.

But I hardly know them… so it's none of my business.

Although they really need to learn what's good for them or not.

But maybe I'm getting myself worked up over nothing.

Maybe I should just lay back and relax.

And what's there not to be relaxing?

For example, the soft sound of the waltz washing over the vicinity of the room is relaxing…

I have to admit, the bass player is pretty good at least and the singer's got a pretty rich voice. Past experience let's me know that the drummer is good at what he does, but observance let's me know he's bored out of his mind. I completely sympathize, but I don't feel so bad anymore thanks to the song. It's slow, lethargic tempo soothes me into calm serenity once I force myself to listen carefully enough and I close my eyes for a moment to relish in this momentary feeling of solitary refuge.

Lights blind me from behind my closed lids and the music hums softly in my ears, yet I still feel my eardrums pulse at the loudness the DJ is dishing the music out with the equalizer and the floor shakes with the blaring speakers under my feet where the band's music is amplified to a louder sound.

Speaking of which, these heels are killing me and the floor pulsing under them isn't really helping either.

I open my eyes when I wince, and I take in the scene on the dance floor dully as guest couples, young and old, silently retreat from the dance floor to make room for the leading man and lady of the night.

I grab a glass of wine from a caterer walking by and I take a desperate sip as soon as I bring my arm back from the large circular tray the caterer had been carrying around.

They really went all out on this…

I scoff.

I don't know what I think I'm doing as I'm standing here, like I'm really a part of this picture perfect movie, where alls well ends well.

Because it doesn't work that way for some people.

It's never worked that way for some people.

People like me.

And over the course of the whole day the event took place, I had my moments where I felt like I never should've come—like I didn't belong here…

The wine in the glass I'm holding with my right hand looked mighty tempting when that caterer walked by, but I forgot that wine's never really been my thing.

The bitter aftertaste in my mouth reminds me of that little fact.

Licking my lips trying to get rid of the bad taste, I gently place the glass down on a table nearby. I notice that the number the table had been deemed had already tipped over and landed in some spilt beverage until the ink of the number blurred, no longer readable to anyone.

Glancing back at the source of everyone's attention, I see his hand draped over her pale one and he leads my best friend down the steps of their raised table in the front to walk down the mine stairwell together.

Walking the rest of the way to the center of the floor, he wraps a caring arm around her hourglass figure in a sweet embrace, holding her against him while she wraps her own arm around his neck.

They glance at each other before looking to the side to link hands, slowly entangling their fingers to savor the feeling before he leads them in a graceful dance and she willingly follows.

I cross my arms behind my back, linking my hands and fingers while I'm at it, and then I lean back against the wall once more to gaze across the floor and examine the scene better through cobalt orbs, ignoring how my wrists dig into the lower back of my dress' cool material.

I sigh.

As usual, she looks beautiful.

Stunning.

Mesmerizing under the light and glory of the cameras and attention.

After dealing with chatty guests and picky cameramen—while they're making their way around the dance floor, sometimes saying short greetings to the guests they waltz by—it's nice for the room to be quiet for the moment as people watch, star struck at the couple's unity.

The strobe lights shower the room in a mass of dotted colors of the rainbow and spot my vision as though I'm looking through rose-colored lenses when the colors silhouette their figures in backgrounds of sienna or scarlet and fuchsia.

Everyone marvels over her surreal beauty with soft smiles on their faces and I bet they're thinking that they were made for each other.

That they fit in each other's arms so well, and that the looks in their eyes are right out of that fairytale of Cinderella or Snow White.

It's just like the Disney channel movies with all those happy endings and the shining knight in armor and the lovely distressed damsel.

It feels like I'm not really here experiencing this as a maid of honor to the blushing bride.

But that's what I am.

And I'm standing here, watching this play out before me—the pause button not really working the way I want it to in my mind like it does on the tapes or dvd's—as the maid of honor to my best friend no less, who was currently being serenaded by the wedding band and preoccupied with her groom like she has been the whole night...more like the whole day actually...and if we wanted to get technical then maybe it'd be more like three years...but hey, who's counting?

It feels like I'm melting into the walls for once instead of choosing to stand out in the crowd this time, and I can't do anything to stop it. But I guess I don't mind. This is her day after all, it's not like I want to steal her thunder.

I bring my right hand from behind me, letting it twirl the ornament on the silver chain around my neck absently while the bracelet she gave me as a gift lightly rings in my ear and I purse my lips in thought.

My best friend's married.

And she's happy.

She's happy.

That's all I've ever wanted for Minako.

All I've ever wanted was for her to find her number one and live that fairytale she was always telling me about, always trying to convince me with so that I would let myself fall with her.

But I couldn't let us both experience bliss when one of us needed to stay practical enough to protect the other.

Life hadn't exactly been that kind to me or her—not counting her good luck in marriage—so why would I want to let someone into my inner circle when I had all I needed with my best friend, a few other close ones, my aunt, my uncle and my baby brother?

You're probably wondering why I think like this, but Minako had been hurt one too many times in the past.

I'd always been protective of her because of that.

I often remember chasing off some of her suitors with clever and anonymous pranks where they never found the culprit until soon, they would leave Minako and their diabolic plans with her alone in the dust for good.

I was quite the guard dog when it came to people I cared about and Minako was definitely no exception in my book…

Each time Minako met a guy, they would date a while before she would introduce me to them and I'd always be the one staying polite and tolerant of their presence around her just because she liked them.

But even though sometimes she would really care about the guy, my gut would scream danger and warn me not to let that guy get close and I would end up doing something about it before things got messy.

Other times though, I would leave them alone because she seemed really happy and the guy seemed decent enough…

But don't worry—that didn't mean I didn't keep my guard up.

Quite the contrary.

Because high school was quite dramatic for the two of us to go through since Minako and I were equally popular with the opposite sex.

While others were smart enough to know that I was off limits with my dangerous temper and protective streak—many guys in our high school were still stupid enough to try and play with Minako even though she was notorious for having a loyal, protective best friend with a good right hook.

Me.

It was a day after she stormed into my room while I was doing a random guitar rift with tears running down her face, unashamed as she threw herself on me in a hug, hiccupping on my shoulder as she told me how her now ex had cheated on her with another girl…

I remember going up to him the next Monday after school and punching him square in the nose.

I never did tell anyone how much my hand felt like it hit a brick wall after...and I didn't care about the crowd I attracted on the football field when the players all stepped back and watched their star quarterback drop down with a bloody face in the middle of practice squad drills.

I commend them for being smart enough not to try and stop me.

Because the jackass didn't even have the guts to tell Minako the truth when he lied and said he was sick.

Frankly, he deserved more than just a broken nose…

He already had it coming with Karma on the way though.

But seriously—it was the first time I did something about one of those jerks openly.

Because I had really had enough of this shit with people playing with her heart.

And it pissed me off royally when time after time Minako still experienced different degrees of heartbreak with different guys even after the scene I made in front of all the 'big guys' on campus. Honestly speaking, I was just a little surprised when she managed to mend the broken pieces—again—and then she went and dated again with resilience.

Hell, Minako dated lots of guys.

Some good, some bad, some nice, some mean, some extremely good-looking and some…well I guess I could at least be thankful she wasn't shallow when some paled in comparison to her in looks.

So anyways, yes.

Minako dated.

She dated a lot.

But that was because she was looking for 'the one'… because she definitely was not a player.

She wasn't even close.

She was too naïve and trusting to lead the life of a player guiltlessly without concern or regret of the poor hearts she would have had to step all over…

And she wouldn't be the best friend I cared about if she was.

I just felt bad that she went through all those pointless break-ups—sappy movies, tear-a-thon, fattening junk food galore, included—when those exes really weren't worth her time to begin with since while she still cared they had already completely forgotten about her and probably banged the next one. Of course, I never told her that.

It was hard being her constant pillar sometimes because it made me highly snappish and angry at the world every now and then when my best friend couldn't get her fair share of happiness that—in my eyes—she was so completely deserving of.

To put it simply though, we went through hard times together.

Because yes, I had my fair share of problems too—I just don't feel the need to talk about all of them right now.

Because it was time to be happy for Minako.

Because that's what friendship entails.

Because throughout the years we grew up we experienced different levels of trauma and tragedy but we had always been more than enough support for each other with the way we were so easily able to make each other laugh and forget our trivial problems with optimism that life had more to offer.

Like for instance, preschool had been innocent and ignorant with our crayons and that boy who ate the liquid glue when the teacher told him not to.

Elementary was not only secluded but sheltered, since the supervisors often held us back from socializing with the 'older' kids.

Junior high was just a wanna-be version of high school…

And high school?

Well, high school was just an overrated four years filled with queen bees, cliques and rules of the superficial.

If I had to go back and make a speech in place of the valedictorian I would've made sure that future students were there to see the ceremony.

And I could truthfully say, that if I said 'welcome to the dark side', I wouldn't be joking.

I'd really mean it…and I'd feel bad for those freshmen that were suckered into believing that high school was going to be the 'best four damn years of their life'.

Because that was just bull and I knew it, the cheerleaders knew it, the jocks did, the loners definitely did, even Minako's cheerful outlook wasn't enough to keep her from knowing it.

We both were more than happy to have graduated high school and to move onto adulthood in the city where we pursued our childhood dreams and promises to each other, entering the same University together.

The only downside to leaving was leaving behind our families who didn't have enough income to pay their way into moving into the city with us, but it was okay.

We had each other to make it through.

We'd been close since day one and nothing was ever going to change that.

That part was established long ago and it had remained concrete solid in its certainty through time.

Sometimes I wonder how she stuck by my side through thick and thin for so long when I was so complicated though…

But I'd rather not question what little good fortune God bestows upon me.

It really was no surprise that we ended up being roommates in the same dorm.

It was to be expected that we had completely different schedules though—other than our lunch and free blocks—since we shared wide ranges of different interests.

School years had been easy for the both of us with our academic prowess and enjoyment of sports—our social life was nothing to worry about either—so we figured University would be no different other than people would be more mature.

And University wasn't different.

And neither was Minako's habit of loving and flirting with boys.

Here's where the juicy details start coming in.

As we worked our way through the first few weeks of University settling into the routine, Minako had gone off to the café to buy us some food and our favorite coffee when we didn't have any groceries at home to provide ourselves a small dinner.

I gave her some money so that we split the bill equally even though I wouldn't be with her since I was cramming for once in one of my rare bouts of forgetfulness that I hadn't had since I was a kid.

However, after half an hour, I started getting worried.

It usually didn't take her so long to order when she knew both of our favorite things to eat down to the last sprinkle of spices or sauce.

I told myself that if she didn't show up soon I would call her cell phone, and if she didn't answer then I was going to go over there for her.

With that decided I had spent the next fifteen minutes doing the final touches on a project…

And just as I finished counting down the minutes until I would call her, she came through our dorm's door—blushing a bright cherry red and looking dreamy even when she accidentally bumped into a chair, and didn't complain for once—I was more than just suspicious and reluctant to hear about her latest bumping into a 'cute' guy.

I was more than mortified to have to have sat through at least fifteen minutes of her straight rambling on this guy with his light hair and dark eyes and skin and sense of humor and blah, blah, blah.

Don't get me wrong, I've had more than plenty enough practice learning how to tune Minako out when she got into her unalterable state of wistfulness, about the latest guy she was attracted to—but something about the way her voice sounded when she said his name told me that this was it.

This was what Minako had been waiting for.

The next two months would decide whether this guy she randomly met would be up to par with her expectations enough for her to decide whether or not to come bring me down to meet him.

And really?

I have to say that I was more than relieved...and also just a bit cautious to comply with her request via cell phone, to come meet her in the courtyard when she told me she was going to introduce me to him as soon as I got out of class and had the rest of the night free.

You have no idea, how crazy she was about him already at the time…and it had only been two months!

Things were already heating up between her and this mystery guy after three weeks of casual dating and I couldn't control my instinct to roll my eyes every time she gushed about this 'Mr. Right' who I didn't even give a rat's ass about.

Because it was difficult having a migraine of frustration when you were trying to compensate for a missed seminar with one of the biggest senile jerk professors ever—who just so happened to have the power to help decide your future.

And I'm sorry, but I really didn't feel like having my best friend go into a fit of tears when her relationship didn't work out again…

I inwardly frowned.

Wow, you probably think I just sounded like a bitch saying that but don't take it the wrong way because I just…I really wanted my gut instinct to be right about this guy.

I was hopeful this time.

I wanted to believe that Minako would get what she deserved and that she finally had someone who deserved every bit of her as much as she deserved him making her happy.

I wanted to be able to relax and trust this guy with my best friend's heart, because I wasn't sure how many more disappointments she could take before she turned out like me.

Not that I'm a terrible person—I'm not saying I'm great either, to set the record straight—but I wasn't your average cheerful and optimistic female when it came to men.

In fact, I'm probably the most unromantic girl you'll ever meet, too. Some might even go so far as to call me a manhater, and that really wasn't the case. I was just...hesitant to bother giving the opposite sex a chance considering my ugly experience with them. God, I shouldn't even have to feel the need to explain myself to you but whatever.

That's not the idea.

The thing is…I wanted Minako to find what she was looking for…

So when I met him…wow.

Wow, because did she ever find what she was looking for.

She found Motoki.

And I couldn't approve more.

He was a great guy.

Fun, loving, smart—he's like a brother to me now, too.

And I trust him wholeheartedly, with Minako.

So those weeks of having Minako's incessant rambling about how great he was didn't seem so pointless or unproductive in the end after all, because I realized that everything she had ever said about Motoki was right.

Accurate, on point and on the dot.

Deep sandy blonde hair and even more bottomless sweet bottle green eyes, Andrew was a heartthrob who was a package complete with an easy smile and an even easier laugh.

They made the perfect couple, complimenting each other terrifically and each of them good people.

If I could say something to describe those two, I'd say they were going to be the ideal family with the whole white picket fence and kids running around the house, playful and ignorant to the troubles of the adult world.

To me—as corny as it sounds, to my displeasure—they were two hearts in one.

Ever since Minako met Motoki, she's learned to be loud and outspoken, to be bold again when she needs to be instead of being silently insecure due to past heartaches…but she's still the same sweet and caring girl from my childhood.

And Motoki?

I see the way he looks at her.

He looks at her like she's the only one in the room, like she's the only one he'll ever love for now and forever… and I know that that's exactly the reason.

And I had been more than just happy for her that day I was first introduced to Motoki because I approved completely this time instead of fifty percent.

I was happy for them.

I am happy for them.

I massage my temples with my fingertips tiresomely.

…Except for the fact that I had the displeasure of being introduced to him.

So here's where things get complicated and where things start making sense why I've been going around in circles with my thoughts.

For as long as I could remember, there have always been twists and turns in my life, teetering perilously close into throwing me into the oblivion of the unknown.

My life was full of enough curveballs as it was, with the fact that my parents died while I was still just a kid and worked double shifts at thirteen—lying about my age, duh—just to help my aunt and uncle pay the bills while helping them nurture my baby brother in the unstable environment of a less than ideal city.

But I survived that constant rain cloud hanging over my head.

And life was pretty good.

Except for some of the events that have happened during my life that I rather would have not had to deal with…which brings me back to the issue of those curveballs that were regretless when they decided to become the bane of my existence in life at an early age.

They were a pain in the ass, is what I can say, a real nuisance that I couldn't ignore when they were constantly nagging me at the back of my mind…

Yet no matter how much they irritated me, Fate just couldn't resist throwing me another one.

One that was more persistent than the rest, and not so easily deterred or outsmarted.

I'll be honest.

I had little experience when it came to guys because I'd never been one for relationships.

At least relationships in that way…

I thought they were stupid and unreasonable.

It wasn't logical to let someone know your deepest, darkest secrets and to expect them to accept you without a question and without a doubt. It wasn't logical to give someone the ability to break your heart while blindly trusting that they wouldn't just to reassure yourself you weren't making a stupid decision.

Which if you ask me, I would say that I thought you were making a stupid decision—but that's just me.

And I wasn't particularly fond of guessing as to how much I meant to someone either.

Because relationships were based on chances, and I didn't like not knowing what was going to happen to me…

I didn't like those kinds of chances.

The ones where it relied on what the other person did to help you bridge the gap until you shared the burden fifty-fifty.

I guess you could say I completely agreed with that whole 'down with love' notion, because I had no intention of letting my happiness rely on someone else.

And here's where Motoki's best friend came in…

He was the most insufferable and egotistic asshole I had ever met…!

And when I was irked by the first thing that came out of his mouth, I wasn't placated when Motoki tried to vouch for his friend by saying that he wasn't so bad once you got to know him because he and him had been friends since they were young.

It just made me incredulous that he managed to be in the presence of…him…for that long.

Dear God…!

There was just something about him that pissed me off and rubbed me the wrong way!

It had to have been the first time I'd ever felt such a strong urge to kick someone in the shin before because I got to say—he was something else.

Something bad.

And there was my gut kicking in, telling me that he was not good for me.

So not good for me…

With his compelling charm, ridiculous wit and strong conviction in what he wanted—he was dangerous.

And when he seemed to get that knowing look in his eye, like he already knew that I didn't trust him in any way…

It gave me the go to let my distaste for him known that first meeting because I was past pretending being tolerant—because this guy wasn't the guy that Minako was mad for so I wasn't obligated to be nice this time.

For crying out loud, how the hell was someone as sweet and caring as Motoki the best friend of some slick, smooth talker with the ability to make girls swoon out of weakness in the knees…?

And yes, I have seen it happen before, no matter how hard those girls tried to hide it from him.

Because while Motoki was the boyish sweetheart with the impressive ability in anything intellectual or athletic…his best friend was some kind of suave embodiment of tall, dark and handsome—who was just as good at anything intellectual or athletic as Motoki was…if not more.

It really didn't comfort me when even the brainier feminists fell for his tricks.

Maybe I should've counted my graces and been glad that Motoki was his best friend though, because who knows how much worse he could've been without Motoki to balance him out and try to discourage him from his little game of fooling around with love and lust.

But that wasn't what I was concerned about.

I was concerned with the way that after I so gruffly shot him down a notch, he took a sudden interest in me and I was suddenly left with some kind of shadow that puppy-guarded me wherever I went.

And what made him seem even more pro in his tact of trying to play me was the way that it didn't seem like he was stalking me.

Not at all.

It was like I was just…constantly running into him through coincidence.

And I know that he didn't think I was stupid enough to believe they were actually just coincidences.

It really wasn't that great when I started being able discern exactly when and where I was going to see him pop out of nowhere to bug me.

Because it meant I had developed a sixth sense when it came to him.

And it pissed me off that I was that aware of him around me.

I'd finally had enough of it one day when I had the predictable premonition that he was going to be right around the corner I was about to pass, and I made it a point to shove him against the wall in my ire.

Because I was sick of his flirting. I was sick of his compliments and I was downright ticked off with his fake smiles.

I was tired of avoiding him like this when I knew that he wasn't going to let up anytime soon…

And I didn't even want to know what was going on through his head when I slammed his back hard against the wall with my hand on his chest wrinkling his shirt.

It was probably something kinky.

I was beyond logical reasoning at that thought and I struggled for calm when the words just spilled from my mouth and he swiftly knew out loud that I thought he was a jackass for thinking I would ever like him like the rest of the female student body.

And I swear to God, it didn't feel half as good telling him he needed an attitude adjustment as I thought it would because the insult didn't seem to faze him.

I wasn't thinking when I demanded he tell me why he thought I was so goddamn special.

And this is why I don't like taking those kinds of chances…because what he said next…

Man, I knew it was not good for me.

How he managed to observe so much out of my character when we barely even said a word to each other, fascinated me even though he told me that I did the very same with him by knowing I should be avoiding him at all costs and trying to douse his attention on me—in his own subtle way, of course.

And see?

I even knew what he was thinking and what he was trying to say!

My only comfort was that he was so freaking obvious about it, or at least that's what I told myself.

I think I inwardly slapped myself for being reckless when I said it, because I really hadn't meant to voice it out loud, but it was done when I told him that he should try dropping the flirting and try talking instead.

And the look of surprise on his face when I said it was enough to get me going and I left him there in the empty halls as I made my way to Physics with that old hag.

…He never failed to engage me in a conversation after that.

Whether it was arguing over who should've won the guy or girl of the year award of Japan—and I was surprised he actually managed to get me to talk about that kind of stuff—to arguing about the idiocy of our government, I was stunned when he was slowly drawing me out of my guarded shell to let him in.

It was unexplainable how we would have fights with our equally fierce tempers and how it was easy for us to forget about why we were so mad and to just hang out again like before.

And I really couldn't understand how I suddenly came to look forward to seeing him and talking to him about whatever came to mind.

He unexpectedly became considered a… friend to me.

I actually cared about him.

And I felt like such a hypocrite for being so close to him when just not too long ago, I had hated his womanizing guts…

But I noticed that after a while, he didn't seem so interested in getting laid anymore…so I figured that maybe…he wasn't so dangerous after all?

Over time, he became someone important to me and I overlooked the fact that he had made mistakes that had it been anyone else, I would've had a hard time accepting.

It was just hard not to with him!

Because he made me laugh at such incredibly stupid things and it was remarkable how easily he did it.

And I wasn't stupid…I knew there was something going on in there.

And I knew that he was aware of it too, but I could tell he was in denial.

So was I.

But I knew that I wouldn't be able to avoid it forever, because smiles came easy and unbidden around him and laughter was loud and constant…the fact that I even realize that wasn't good for my part because I didn't know how he felt.

And I didn't like not knowing.

I was a curious little thing, I know, and I couldn't help but question how he would sometimes come to mind whenever I was outside…course the color of his eyes flashed through my mind every time I saw that shade of ocean.

After that, I knew I should've never given him that hint before.

Because the one time I asked him for help with that old hag—who was a high supporter of favoritism—he helped me out patiently after having his laughs at my expense where I couldn't say anything back and when we took our break, our conversation was light as usual.

He made me laugh again and I remember the sound of his deep, rich laugh flowing through me soon after, warming me on the inside with a tingling sensation…but there was something I remember more.

I remember how I felt his laughter die down gently until he was silent and my own chuckles faded with my smile when I slowly noticed where he was looking and how warm I was starting to feel on my right side where I could've sworn he was getting closer to me. I swallowed at the contrast of his dark hair against the innocent sakura petals falling from the tree we sat under.

His eyes were searing into my own with unflinching attention, and it was like we were breathing the same air for just a split second…when he suddenly stood up and bid me goodbye with an excuse moments later.

This…was bad.

Very bad.

The way I was suddenly all too aware of flashbacks when he stuttered around me or suddenly zoned out and felt like fire under my hand…

I left the tree we were sitting under only seconds after him and I was afraid.

Because I knew that he cared about me…in that way.

And that he had just realized it.

And what he had almost done back there…

I couldn't believe how I had been anticipating it, and I didn't like the way my heartbeat tripled for a reason I didn't understand or how my senses had zoomed in on the moment until it felt like it was literally happening in slow motion.

And that's how I knew that I cared about him that way, too.

It was decided.

My heart had set its sights on the unobtainable.

But even as I realized this, I tried to find reasons why I shouldn't let this happen.

The way he held himself in the beginning was what instantly probed my attention with how he held himself together with pride and dignity, with a casual air and I think that I had been annoyed with him because I had been drawn to him.

He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before.

He wasn't, with the way he was so popular with ladies that they strived for his attention or how he devilishly managed to subdue them with one look or smile.

…You really don't find a guy like that very often.

He was rare because he was wildly untamable and entirely unapologetic when he was faced with consequences of his thoughtless actions, but you couldn't be mad at him because there was something so admirable in how he was fearless when it came to punishment.

And I knew that Motoki was right when he said that he wasn't as bad as he seemed, because there was a human being under that bad boy playing front he put up.

Because he really did care about things, and I found that he was just like me.

We were two of a kind, so guarded and protected by our own versions of tediously built walls to shut people out from reaching into the part where feelings resided in our hearts.

He didn't want to bother with it either…

And that's when I found he got me.

You know, as in when you understood someone.

And that was strange to me because my own best friend had never fully been able to understand me like I could with her… yet here was this jerk that barged into my life uninvited and made me feel like I couldn't remember what it was like before he came in.

I admit, there had always been something about his unruly jet-black hair with that even more rebellious lock that fell into his eyes sometimes, his tanned bronzed skin from enjoying the outdoors like I did, and his slightly callused hands that had brought me comfort.

Even if it was subconsciously.

And when I remember how I started being able to discern whether his smiles were sincere or not…I grasped the fact that I liked when he did that—when his smiles were real.

Because underneath his lustful and casual outlook on life, he was actually a really…great person…definitely not an angel or anything but the world was full of sins, so who could resist their own fantasy version of temptation?

I know that he didn't…

But things were different after that day.

Our friendship became a little strained underneath the pressure of our attraction towards each other…but somehow…

I let out a breath.

I'm dumbfounded that we managed to last so long without cracking under desire.

That didn't mean that those accidental touches and lingering gazes never occurred though, because they did.

Quite frequently, actually.

And I think that the reason why we never did anything about it was because we were both afraid of what would happen…so our mutual attraction for each other stayed hidden under close wraps of our iron wills and it became a normal part of our uncommon friendship…as twisted as that may be.

Because the one reason why 'us' shouldn't happen that I managed to find, was that we didn't want to jeopardize anything and make it so that we would never be able to comfortably talk again.

I forgot to mention that when I said we lasted so long without cracking—there's a hint in there, saying that we lasted…which means it happened sometime later.

It being the situation where we cracked.

We were just lucky that we found a common ground to agree on during this wedding…a truce that nothing would happen during the planning of this wedding between our two best friends joining in matrimony.

I look back at Minako and Motoki just as the song ends and Motoki brings her down in a perfect dip, her back arched gracefully against his hand supporting her and their audience whoop and cheer in approval while rapping their forks and knives against their champagne glasses urging them to kiss…

I look away.

I didn't want to see how things could've been for me, because it was a definite that Minako and Motoki's relationship was completely different from ours.

The thing about us … was that neither of us have ever been one to follow anyone's orders…much less each other's…

And in my defense, you really couldn't blame me for not listening to my head instead of my heart this time…Besides, it's not like you could have expected me not to love him sooner or later especially if you were face with drowning in Mamoru's endless oceans for eyes of his. Don't snort at me...you know you would've done the same.

It could take a while for you to understand the full story…but what the hell?

This thing wasn't about to end till at least five in the morning anyway.

* * *

_TA-DA_

I really hope this is worth continuing…I'm having fun writing it so far anyways…

Oh, and just a heads-up, I'm not completely aware of Japanese traditions or anything like that so bear with me.

And Usagi seems a bit different here because I don't really enjoy seeing her klutz out and cry so much because people tease her for that—and she's a really good person, so I thought I'd show the stronger side to her that I see.

Mamoru's different too, so yeah his family is still alive, because I've decided to switch their roles a bit just to play around so don't worry.

ser3ne eternity.

_aka;;_**azuresass22.**

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Almost Had You

* * *

Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, _dastardly _good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the _hell_, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

* * *

_"Can you hear it?"_

_"Hear what?"_

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

* * *

_TA-DA _

"_Oh God…it's finally happened. Motoki's fallen for a girl. Hard…I slapped my hand to my forehead. We haven't even been here for a week!"_

_-Chiba Mamoru_

Chapter 3_  
the golden girl_

Furuhata Motoki hurried through the rain, ducking under overhangs and trees wherever possible.

However, all this was done in vain.

Due to the season of autumn now being in full swing, many of the trees provided little shelter, having already shed and gotten rid of their multicolored leaves until they were haphazardly strewn about the concrete sidewalk.

Cursing to himself that him and his best friend, Chiba Mamoru, had no food in their dorm of three days today of all days—where a flurry of rain was flooding the normally jostling streets of Tokyo that were now abandoned—he avoided running.

Because as soaked as he was going to be, Motoki figured that if he ran it really wouldn't make a difference to his state of dryness, what with all the perilous murky waters of puddles being present in every pothole or crack in the sidewalks, that is.

The nineteen-year-old blonde's hazel-green eyes narrowed under the downpour of liquid diamond drops falling into his vision despite his arms being posed over his head to keep his hood from being blown off by the breeze.

He was already beginning to shiver through his already soaked clothes. He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering when he found his destination.

Hurriedly pushing through the café's double doors, he barely registered the gentle tinkling of silver bells that hung over the door pane as he made his way to the cashier, desperate for some warm coffee now more than ever, dismissing and ignoring the fact that he usually didn't particularly enjoy coffee and it's bitter taste. He never could understand what Mamoru found so wonderful about it.

Yet his taste buds salivated in his mouth at just the thought of that hot ambrosia soothing his raw throat with its warmth and clearing his cold nose of unwanted fluids…it would be nice if he could feel his ears again, too.

His eyes followed the tendrils of steam swirling from the coffee machines and cups almost dramatically in slow motion, tantalizing him ruthlessly with the hazelnut and rich vanilla blend he could smell.

He strode quickly in anticipation now, so quickly that he almost didn't see the blonde bombshell losing her balance as she pivoted rapidly, a tray of coffee in her hands that he had been coveting.

Motoki was so lost in his thoughts that his muddled mind barely understood his peripheral vision suddenly being filled with an endless haze of bright yellow, peach porcelain and doe-shaped eyes of the brightest blue he had ever seen.

So shocked was he by the raving beauty, his reflexes only abruptly came into focus at the last moment, his arms jerking forward with sharp accuracy and catching the airborne blonde before she could sprawl across the floor.

Motoki failed to notice the flailing tray or the splattering of brown coffee spilling across the tile floor though when he immediately felt the stranger's soft curves pulled flush against his chest.

He had the grace to blush lightly under her grateful and awestruck gaze, especially when he noticed how her front was becoming moist at the contact it shared with his drenched windbreaker and he was more than a little self-conscious about the drops of water running down the sides of his face and dripping off his flat hair.

And awestruck…?

In his mind, the young man couldn't believe that he was actually seeing awe in this beauty's eyes, staring piercingly into his jaded ones.

True, Motoki admitted that while he knew he was good-looking…in all the time during his adolescent teens he had never gotten awestruck looks before.

Sure, he had been athletic and smart and boyishly good-looking—as others have mentioned to him before—but he never thought that he was anything special.

At least not special compared to his best friend.

Now Mamoru—there was someone to be awestruck by, someone smooth and confident and handsome…

And no, he was not gay, homosexual, queer or a fruitcake or whatever you want to call it—Motoki knew for a fact that he was not waiting for an opportune moment to come out of the closet and let the cat out of the bag that he was gay…because he wasn't...because that was just wrong to him...not that he had anything against it.

He was all for accepting anyone's sexuality...but he had to admit, that it would take some getting used to before he could become friends with them since you know, he didn't exactly want them crushing on him. He was straight, after all.

Especially since he grew up with Mamoru, a fellow male who had always been surrounded by the opposite sex for as long as he and himself could remember.

That's why Motoki never expected any awestruck looks to be thrown his way because Mamoru was the special one.

Mamoru was the smooth one.

Mamoru was the confident one.

Mamoru was the handsome one.

Mamoru was the one with the long string of girlfriends…

And no, he wasn't jealous…not at all…

He grimaced.

Okay, so maybe he was jealous…

Just a little…?

But come on!

He wasn't a player or a womanizer, but was it so wrong to want some action for himself every now and then…?

Now that he thought about it though, it was kind of sad how he never got any awestruck looks before because they were always reserved for Mamoru—

Motoki roughly shook his head...

God, at the rate he was going now…maybe he was gay!

How many times does a guy mention their very male best friend's name in his thoughts when he's just met a gorgeous girl?!

"Thank you so much," came the breathy exclamation, and Motoki was enraptured by a voice of spun silk, so soft and light with femininity as it's owner cheerfully apologized for her clumsiness.

Apologized…

It clicked in his slow functioning mind that she was apologizing to him.

He couldn't really remember what or why she would be apologizing but he figured it didn't matter, because she really shouldn't need to apologize to him of all people.

He wasn't special, after all.

"Oh, no!" Motoki exclaimed, awkwardly gesturing with both hands, "It's fine, really. I wasn't watching where I was going and I—"

For the first time, he got a full look of the girl standing in front of him.

The girl standing across from him had locks of pure gold.

Except it wasn't gold it was more like…like a sunny shade of blonde and he couldn't see a single other shade mixed in like all the other blondes he'd met before who sometimes had strands of chestnut brown or auburn and even black interwoven with their blonde tresses from being out in the sun much like he did.

Her hair was so long that it cascaded to her waist with a kind of effortless grace and he wondered how long it really was when she had that bold crimson bow holding some of it back from her face with a matching scarf wrapped around her neck over her tan, woolen trench coat.

Her cheeks were still rosy from being out in the cold weather but he could tell that part of that was natural against her smooth porcelain skin. And her eyes—damn!

Her eyes sparkled brightly under the fluorescent lights of the café and they looked like such an exuberant hue of blue, they nearly mirrored the shade of the sky—when it wasn't raining, of course.

Motoki let out a breath when he noticed how long her legs were, wrapped in dark black tights with dainty feet to go with them in snug boots.

He almost wondered why she wasn't wearing gloves to protect her hands, but then discarded the thought as not being important.

All in all, she was…

Wow…

Maybe gorgeous was an understatement.

He couldn't find a word that would fit describing her however, so he settled with the first adjective that came to mind.

This girl was…breathtaking.

Should he say girl, or is she a woman…?

Oh bah!

What's the difference?

The girl blinked curiously at his scrutiny and fidgeted lightly with her now empty hands.

The duo stood in silence for a few moments where both opened and closed their mouths in awkward silence, Motoki inwardly berating himself and the other, trying not to sigh dreamily.

Of course, Motoki didn't know about the urge the girl was trying to suppress, since he was too busy mocking himself.

Wonderful.

He was being stupid.

Stupid and moronic.

He smiled ruefully—he might as well call himself every synonym for stupid there was.

Because really, who goes and makes a fool of himself in front of an attractive girl by babbling…and openly gawking.

It really didn't help when that familiar clammy sensation tingled through his fingers as he struggled to come up with acceptable words to start a conversation—some small talk at the very least.

But holy crap!

It was so hard to force words out of his mouth when he felt so uncomfortably hot through his drenched windbreaker and jeans.

And that didn't really make sense at all, he realized, as the girl stared at him strangely with a delicate and confused frown on her face.

The heat intensified within him, and to his mortification—he realized that the reason why his face felt particularly on fire was because he was blushing.

He almost wished he could climb in a hole and just die…

It would put him out of his misery at least.

But maybe it was good that he was obsessing though because erm, uh…

Well…

At least he's not gay…?

Damn it…!

He better add 'idiot' to his list.

He already knew he wasn't gay…!

He opened his mouth to redeem himself, nearly shoving his hand in her face—almost too eagerly for his liking—when he saw the surprised look take over her heart-shaped face.

"I'm uh…my name's Furuhata Motoki…" he trailed off uncertainly.

_Lame, lame, lame, lame, LAME!_

For a split second he felt embarrassment climb up his spine with a choking vengeance and he suddenly wished for a mere moment that he was Mamoru.

Mamoru wouldn't have stuttered like that.

Mamoru wouldn't have thrown himself at the girl either.

Mamoru would've smiled and winked, then walked on, silently counting to himself the seconds it would take before the girl would hurriedly try to regain his attention and—if possible—a one-on-one night in the town.

Yes, Mamoru wouldn't have been such a dork. Motoki inwardly swore.

Dear God!

To hell with Mamoru, already!

A small hand clasped his and Motoki felt his face heat up once more as the newly added warmth in his cool palm rushed up his arm—warming his insides instantaneously without delay—as soon as her hand came in contact with his.

He felt all five of her slender fingers curl tenderly over his and a mild squeeze as she brought their hands in an up and down motion together.

He wondered if he just felt a shock from her.

Static electricity, maybe?

From what, though…?

Her pink lush lips parted and then he was graced with her melodic voice again…

Who cares about static electricity…?

"Aino Minako—but you can call me Mina."

And then she smiled.

And wow…could she smile.

Dazed by her outgoing kindness, he visibly swallowed and amusement glittered in her twin pools of cerulean.

Was it normal for him to be so attracted to her already…?

"Next!"

Motoki hastily turned around to face the impatient cashier and he jumped when Mina pushed him towards the cashier with a soft push to his back. Still disoriented, he stepped forward while Mina winked at him.

"It's your turn, Furuhata-san."

His surname rolled off her tongue easily and he could clearly hear her elegantly accenting all five syllables of his last name teasingly, including the traditional honorific at the end.

Now standing in front of the tiller, Motoki quickly ordered the two cups of coffee for him and Mamoru he originally came for and ignored the indignant muttering of the other teen behind the counter.

As the employee set about brewing the requested coffee, Motoki glanced behind him and saw Mina eyeing her spoiled coffee with a depressed pout and sigh.

"Darn," she murmured, "Guess me and Usa-chan aren't having dinner tonight…"

Mina called to a waitress passing by and apologized for the mess she made. The waitress simply smiled kindly and said she'd be back with a mop to clean it up, telling Mina she didn't have to worry about it.

Motoki watched the interaction and saw Mina laugh with relief before she thanked the waitress and turned to leave. He heard her footsteps against the ground as she grew closer to him until she was about to pass right by him.

Thinking on an impulse, Motoki came to a decision.

"I, uh," Motoki quickly noted to himself not to stammer like a fool, "Hey, Mina?"

She turned around to face him, her hands now in her pockets and asked him curiously, "Yes, Furuhata-san?"

Putting on his sincerest smile, he offered, "I'm sorry about your coffee. I'll buy you another one if you want?"

Mina's mouth opened and formed a perfect 'o' in surprise.

"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that. That's very kind of you but really, you don't have to."

Still smiling, Motoki pushed, "But I insist. It's the least I could do."

And then before she could protest again, Motoki ordered some bagels along with two more coffees with hazelnut and vanilla that he knew Mina ordered earlier.

The cashier grumbled under her breath, before going back to fill the rest of his order after she gave him his new amount of change. When she finished, she gruffly handed the tray of coffee to Motoki with the bag of bagels.

"Thanks," he grinned at the teen with a friendly look.

"Yeah, whatever."

Motoki's smile wavered slight before he finally shrugged off the other teen's less than appreciative mood, knocking it off to be the rain and handed Mina the bag of bagels with the coffee.

"Here," he urged her, "It's my treat."

Mina smiled sheepishly and then shyly accepted the offered goods, "You really didn't have to do that, Furuhata-san."

Motoki grinned again, "For the record, Mina?"

"Hmm?"

"It's Motoki."

"Okay," Mina nodded tolerantly, testing out his first name,"Thanks, Motoki."

The two turned towards the door, and walked out together as Motoki held the door open for Mina in a show of old-fashioned chivalry to which she laughed at in appreciation. They took on a leisurely pace as they walked down the sidewalk and Motoki was surprised that Mina didn't shiver or complain at the rain that plastered her locks to her skin.

Noticing that they were walking in the same direction, Motoki asked, "So Mina, where are you headed?"

Mina glanced at him to acknowledge him before facing forwards again, "Tokyo University, you?"

"You go to Tokyo University?" Motoki repeated slowly, before his eyes brightened up happily, "I go there, too."

"Really? I haven't seen you around campus before…"

Motoki shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, "My friend and I just got our transfer scripts accepted. We've only been here for three days since we just got here during the weekend, so we're going to our first class tomorrow."

Mina turned to face Motoki as she walked backwards with an excited tone, "Wow, that's great! Do you need someone to show you around?"

Opportunity struck and Motoki nodded while trying not to appear too eager to get to know her since he didn't want to come on too strong, "Actually, yeah…that'd be awesome!"

"Okay then, just remind me and I'll give you my number?" Mina quirked a smile.

"Sounds good…what are you majoring in anyway?"

"I'm studying to be a fashion designer! How about you?"

"Cool, well I want to get into Med so…"

As the conversation dissipated with the University dorms coming in sight, Motoki could hardly believe his luck as he waved goodbye to Mina, fingering the slip of paper with her number on it. When she was out of sight, he turned around and jogged the rest of the way to his dorm, carefully keeping the tray of coffee balanced in his hand. He checked his watch and hoped that the coffee would still be hot as he reached into his pocket, swiftly unlocking the door and opening it.

3, 2, 1…

"Jeez, Motoki! Where the hell have you been? Get inside already, you're soaked."

As he closed the door with his foot, Motoki only grinned at his best friend's admonishing tone that immediately greeted him even though his cobalt orbs glared darkly at him from beneath the shroud of onyx locks that fell over his face.

He obligingly handed the coffee over to Mamoru as he took his wet windbreaker and shoes off to pad into the kitchen where Mamoru readily gulped down the coffee.

Motoki dropped his keys on the counter next to their breakfast table and grabbed the remaining coffee in his hands. He closed his eyes, breathing in the pungent aroma, and already predicting the caffeine high he was going to have later.

Eyeing his best friend suspiciously, Mamoru crossed his arms over his black wife-beater and leaned back in his chair while he narrowed his eyes on Motoki's face.

Mamoru noticed right away that as soon as Motoki opened the door, he didn't seem annoyed with his scolding tone—which he would never live down if anyone knew he scolded people…he had a reputation to upkeep!—when normally… he would have been.

Instead, Motoki had smiled generously and offered him his coffee without a single rolling of his eyes or a dry, sarcastic retort that would've suggested him going out to buy the damn coffee himself.

Something was wrong.

Motoki was enjoying his coffee way too much.

Which was strange, because Mamoru knew that Motoki usually detested coffee…he had expected Motoki to get some sort of decaf thing or latte or whatever…

Actually to be honest?

Mamoru didn't know if latte was even a form of coffee or not.

He never bothered with such insignificant details.

Normally he worried about whether the waitresses seemed nice.

He smirked…

They usually were.

He could hardly blame them.

But while Mamoru could sit and gloat about the double-takes he received, right now he was more concerned about Motoki.

Motoki, who was sighing dreamily.

Motoki, who looked like he was blushing…?

Motoki who looked like…he was saying a name over and over again…

And was it just Mamoru—or was Motoki savoring the sound of that name out loud?

"Okay, I'll bite," Mamoru muttered over the rim of his coffee, "What happened that's got you looking like a lovesick idiot, Motoki?"

A gleam entered Motoki's grass green eyes and Mamoru could barely understand the words coming out of Motoki's mouth at a mile a minute…Or should it be a mile a second?

"I met this girl named Mina—"

"She's got the longest blonde hair—"

"Gorgeous smile—"

Mamoru's face scrunched up in befuddlement to match his bewilderment.

Okay so, Motoki met a girl…

"Sweet voice—"

"Goes to Tokyo University, like us—"

"She gave me her number—"

He blinked, beginning to get overwhelmed with the stream of sentences flying at him as he tried to understand fast enough before Motoki moved onto his next blurb of information on this Mina.

Because Mamoru didn't have to even ask what this was about.

Already, he could tell that Motoki had met some amazing girl and was extremely attracted to her because he was making bigger and bigger hand gestures…

But he was having a hard time comprehending _why_ this girl was so amazing because _Motoki_ was talking so goddamn_ fast!_

"I really like her, Mamoru," Motoki finished, catching his breath.

Mamoru quirked one brow dryly, "I can tell."

Motoki laughed guiltily and allowed Mamoru a few moments of silence to dissect the things that he had said in such a rush and to turn them into _understandable_ thoughts… so that he could respond and be on the same level of thought that he was expressing.

It was sort of ridiculous really, the way Mamoru sipped at the remnants of his coffee while Motoki was already expressing the impending caffeine high he was having by being unable to sit still until he was pacing the length of their small kitchen, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, pulling at a loose thread absent-mindedly.

"So you met a girl."

Motoki whirled at Mamoru's voice with a questioning look.

That was it?

That's all Mamoru had to say?

As if reading his thoughts, Mamoru offered a half-hearted comment, "Good for you, buddy."

"That's all you have to say?" Motoki asked incredulously.

Mamoru shrugged, brushing off his shorts to stand, "What do you want me to say, Motoki?"

Mamoru was wary of this _Mina_, having already come to the conclusion that _Mina_ was going to be a thorn in his side for the next little while. Especially at Motoki's disbelieving reaction at his lack of response.

Motoki had that 'crazy-about-her' thing going on all around him…

In fact, Motoki was _oozing_ relationship anticipation.

And Mamoru wanted no part in it.

It wouldn't be good for him to get involved.

Motoki was his best friend—but he wasn't willing to become an unqualified shrink for Motoki twenty-four seven for those pre-date jitters and early emotional insecurities when he had _other_ plans with _other_ ladies.

And yeah, yeah, yeah…

He'd get his work done, but no harm in having a bit of play right?

Besides, _Motoki_ plus _relationship_ plus _love_—was dangerous territory.

Territory that Mamoru himself wasn't about to get knee-deep in and drown in…

Hell, if he didn't get out of here soon, he was going to drown in _all_ of Motoki's ideals on love.

_Again_…

And cripes!

Last time was scarring enough—he'd only been fifteen!

Mamoru shuddered at the memory that flashed through his mind.

_That_ was scary…

He was definitely not going to go through that again.

No.

Oh no, no, no, no.

He was drawing the line here _now_.

He was putting his foot down on this one.

He was _not_ going to sit and listen to Motoki's thoughts on his newfound crush again.

No way.

Nu-uh.

Not this time.

With this in mind, he had every intent of going straight to the safety of his room where Motoki wouldn't be able to reach him… if he pretended to sleep right way.

And if he didn't…well, thank God for locks.

Taking easy strides, Mamoru had already crossed half the distance he needed to cover to get to his room when he heard it.

"Mamoru…" a voice called with a stern tone.

He contemplated pretending not hearing Motoki and ignoring him but you know…

Damnable loyalty to friends and shit…

So he halted obediently and turned to face Motoki and was met with a pathetic—in his eyes, at least—sight of Motoki staring down into his coffee and one hand buried in his strawberry blonde locks.

Paying close attention, Mamoru could hear the humming of their fridge in the background and the rain pitter-pattering against their roof in a rhythmic tempo of even intervals.

He should know, since it sounded like a slow beat he would play on his snare, building tension to the climax of the intro of the song until the band would burst into a flurry of sound and harmony.

Mamoru wondered why Motoki looked so nervous sinking into the leather upholstery of their table chairs.

He thought of all the possibilities.

Sexual frustration?

Nah, the man was practically a virgin or at least some kind of abstinent saint.

Crush?

Why would he look so confused then?

Serious 'like-like'?

Didn't serious like-like mean something else though? Something almost like lust? Motoki wasn't really lustful though.

Wanting to flirt or a fling, maybe?

No…

None of those things seemed to fit Motoki's character…so the only thing left was…

It hit him.

Smack-dab in the face.

Mamoru blinked as he stared at Motoki's hunched figure before a sound built up in his throat and released in a groan of agitation, sliding both hands down the side of his face and he turned, banging his head against the wall in time with the rain and the humming of the fridge at the confirmation he had just discovered of Motoki's recent—and now alive—love life.

_Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!_

Motoki rushed to his feet, already having a fair idea of what his friend was thinking.

"Wait, Mamoru it's not like that!"

Mamoru banged his head harder, knowing that his friend denying it was only to make him feel better and knowing that his friend's considerate actions were a result of beginning to care about another girl once more.

It was worse than he thought!

"Mamoru!"

Mamoru continued to ignore him, goading him into irritation.

With authority one could only have from being older, Motoki crossed the distance from where he stood slightly off to Mamoru's side to where he stood, and without flinching—he'd done it many times before when Mamoru was agonizing over writer's block for a drum solo—he placed his hand where Mamoru would've banged his head on the wall.

"Stop that!" Motoki snapped, barely feeling it when Mamoru continued to bang his head against his hand, before insisting again, "It's not like that."

"Oh like _hell_, it isn't," Mamoru drawled, not missing a beat with the rain outside as he banged his head on Motoki's hand without remorse, knowing Motoki was already used to it.

"I'm not in love with her, Mamoru! I'm just going to ask her out!"

Mamoru snorted at Motoki's defensive tone.

"_Just going to ask her out_," he paused from his head-banging and mimicked him in a mocking falsetto.

Motoki glared, "I'm not in love with her."

"Nobody said you were."

"You're the one who—!"

Giving up on indirectly causing Motoki pain, Mamoru stopped trying to bang his head on the wall and shot back, "I said nothing—you're the one who assumed I was thinking it."

"Because you were, _smart ass_," Motoki griped.

"You should know."

"I'm not a smart ass!"

"Right…of course not, you're just a fool. God, Motoki. You're in love with her already!"

"No, I'm not!"

"You just met her!" he exclaimed accusingly.

"I'm _not_."

"Uh huh, right. Denial's stage two, just so you know…Wow, you're already climbing up the ranks pretty fast…A bit _too_ fast, don't you think—_Ow_!"

Fed up with Mamoru's antics, Motoki snapped his wrist with keen precision and smacked Mamoru on the back of his head in retaliation and without mercy.

"What the hell was _that_ for?!" Mamoru cried indignantly.

Glaring at his best friend as he nursed his abused scalp, Motoki said in a neutral tone, "I'm going to ask her out."

"Good for you, you _moron_," Mamoru grumbled, "If it was my permission you wanted, then congratulations, you have it…Jeez, could've just asked and saved us the time…_Damn it!"_

Motoki turned around ignoring the heated glare boring into his back as Mamoru nearly slammed his door off its hinges in resentment at being smacked on the back of his head not _once_, but _twice_.

Muttering to himself about idiots and that scornful emotion—_love_, Mamoru snidely congratulated it on harvesting yet _another_ victim to add to its ever growing list.

Rubbing the back of his head one last time, Mamoru growled softly.

"We haven't even been here for a goddamn _week_ and he's already in love!"

Though he would never say it out loud to Motoki—at least not yet—Mamoru knew that this time, Motoki really _was_ in love.

It wasn't a mistake this time.

Shrugging as he fell backwards to fall into an undignified heap on top of his bed, Mamoru let a small smile grace his face before it turned into a smirk.

He crossed his arms to cradle the back of his head and he stared at the ceiling.

"I hope she's worth it…"

* * *

_TA-DA_

Hey guys! Sorry I took so long, anyways just a little MotokixMina romance there…and this is just an intro to the their relationship because it's really because of them that Usagi and Mamoru meet—so just be patient. There'll be eventual stuff going on between Usagi and Mamoru soon.

…Oh and not really sure about the whole system about majoring in something in University yet so, sorry if it's wrong!

And also, from here on out, most of it won't be told in first person unless I decide to, just to help the story move and to hopefully answer any questions you have about the past. There'll be some flashbacks where Usagi and Mamoru meet again under the circumstance of Minako and Motoki announcing their wedding, but other than that I'll mostly be focusing on how things were with them before while they were in University.

I might change my mind, but I'll be more sure once I get deeper into this.

* * *

Special thanks to the following who reviewed

**cocochan94**

**ginchi16**

**Taxi**

**raye85**

**gabbedah**

**Champion of Justice**

**Sweet123**

**suicidal sal**

Thanks for reviewing you guys, I really appreciate it!

Enjoy.

ser3ne eternity.

_aka;;_**azuresass22.**

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Almost Had You

* * *

Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

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_"Can you hear it?"_

_"Hear what?"_

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

* * *

_TA-DA_

"_I was feeling tired, more so than normal. I'm surprised that I couldn't find even the slightest amount of optimism to help me. Thank God, I've got Minako_._"_

_-Tsukino Usagi_

Chapter 4  
_once_ _again_

Groaning quietly to herself in boredom, Usagi counted down the seconds before she would be able to leave her wretched class of Physics with words like 'quantum' and other crap that most _definitely_ shouldn't even _exist! _Half the stuff they teach in freaking school wasn't even used in real life! She couldn't understand why there were stupid requirements to have for certain courses that you would probably never remember again unless you became a scientist!

Who _cared_ about the freaking law of gravity?!

All that mattered was that you stayed on the ground!

…Right?

Usagi huffily muttered under her breath about a certain genius she dubbed stupid in the pits of her conscience and her half-present mind—that really—couldn't be helped.

The boring subject lulled her in and out of a state of slumber as her Physics professor continued to talk as though what she said truly mattered to the existence of the world and human beings alike.

And she really _could_ care less.

Because she couldn't convince herself to give a shit.

She'd lived perfectly through eighteen years without _once_ coming to the ridiculously mandatory contact with mind-boggling formulas of sciences…

And to her horror—there was more than just _one_ particular branch of _science_.

Chemistry.

Physics.

Biology.

Even medicine…

_Err, I think…_

Whatever though, that wasn't the point. The point was that much to her chagrin, the list went on and on without shame. She couldn't even remember all the names…!

Hell, she bet she didn't even _know_ half of them!

Let alone be able to pronounce them…

And why the hell did you need freaking _Latin_ in some of the useless _'scientific terms'_? It was already a dead language so why did they keep it around? Why didn't they change the terms to something more understandably simple like put it in plain Japanese? Even English would be appreciated! _Why _did they give themselves such a hard time? Were they freaking sadists...?

Jeez, everything in science was always 'do it like this', or 'do it like that' and most importantly of course, '_don't_ do it like that!'

You'd think that with her flawless rational ability, accumulated through making Minako think sensibly before reacting, she would enjoy science. It was sort of hard to enjoy it though when she also had to deal with Advanced Chemistry.

Which by the way, her professor was sorely itching to fail her with a big fat '_F' _for that unintentional explosion…no matter how much she continued to cling obtusely to the possibility—and _probability—_that _someone_ had knocked her over.

_Err, how did I get an A in high school?_

Usagi snorted in disbelief now that she had the time to reflect on her pathetic claim.

Because of course, her Chemistry professor refused to believe the flimsy excuse of her _'losing her balance_'.

She was a dancer for God's sake—and a hell of a good one at that, if she did say so herself—and dancers didn't get accepted into Tokyo University's prestigious dance program without… _balance_.

And so in a fit of misdirected fury, Usagi turned her wrath and scorn to the jerk behind the _useless_ 'law of gravity'.

_Psht, Isaac Newton my ass_…

Or was it someone else…?

Usagi's features darkened in a frown of confusion shortly, knowing that she might just possibly fail the next exam if she didn't taking this seriously and also knowing that the small fact would bother her for the last of her classes. This infuriated her beyond the point of her normally scrupulous logic and reason…

Because she had her dance course next.

Already, the platinum blonde closed her navy orbs, condemning them to momentary oblivion of darkness upon accepting the fact that she _was_ going to be distracted at the rate she was going…

At least, if she did nothing to stop her flighty thoughts from taking full force that is.

But alas, she was going to be distracted in dance today, much to her disappointment—that she was sure of.

And when she was distracted, she messed up.

And when she messed up…

Usagi cringed—she didn't even want to _know_ what Mizuki-sensei would do to her, much less think or ponder the possibilities…

And what painful possibilities they would be.

The sensei in question would probably have Usagi and her fellow dancers do another painstaking routine in an impossibly short amount of time…or make them do hardcore conditioning of abs and legs and practice their freaking extensions and stillness. And she would kill them if even a single muscle twitched or trembled. She was like a freaking hawk-eye—she never missed a damn thing.

_Hmm_.

Hiromi-sensei was beginning to look agitated with the freshman student, her eagle eyes converging so she appeared a cyclops—well, she would have, had it not been for her eyes being behind wire-framed glasses—with her salt and peppered hair tied back in a severe bun, a barely noticeable frown marring her face with more folds of wrinkles.

Usagi belatedly wondered whether those numerous folds ever ended…but found that she would much rather shudder in disgust at the ugliness that lay behind those folds of skin. She wasn't very aware of her vanity or anything, but she was sure that she would be _extremely_ pleased if she ended up without those wrinkles for a long, long, _long _time. It would suck if she ended up getting them at around twenty-nine like some people...

Maybe Minako's beauty tips _were_ beginning to pollute her mind.

And she wasn't being judgmental, though she _could_ be exaggerating maybe just a bit too much—but she was referring to the ugliness value of Hiromi-sensei as a sensitive human being…not for her outward appearance. And besides, anyone who _enjoyed_ teaching science and advanced physics _and_ torturing students that were now going through the same thing she had to go through...was just plain sadist.

Then again though…Hiromi-sensei _was_ a bit hideous under the glare of the sunlight and the expensive high-tech lighting in the campus…

Unconsciously tapping her foot and bouncing her knee to the beat of the recent song stuck in her head, Usagi wallowed in her desperation to be let out of Physics.

But then she realized her actions.

And cursed their influence.

Courtesy of a certain love struck Mina-chan.

Usagi officially hated Minako's latest phase with American music and _Natalie Cole's _song—_This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)._

It's bad enough that she was constantly rambling on and on in her ear about _Motoki_ ever since he asked her out after she met him when she was _supposed_ to just get them coffee—but now she had her humming _love songs in her own head?!_

It was laughably _ludicrous!_

In fact, it _was_ ludicrous!

She even knew where the blasted brackets went!

And she could even curse the song for just being in English if it weren't for the fact that she and Minako were already fluent in it.

But still.

Love songs.

Inside her _own _head?!

That wasn't fair!

And her best friend was acting like she was madly in love already!

Well okay, she _was_ but Usagi hadn't really planned on her best friend knowing that within the short span of time of two months. Which really, wasn't even two months yet since there was still two weeks left of this month. Usagi winced—she was supposed to be a dancer that was spontaneous and free like back in the day but then...why was she so..._uptight?_ She hated people that were uptight...She sighed, now she felt like a nice walk in the rain...except it wasn't raining.

It hadn't rained for a while now except for the occasional drizzles that was nothing compared to the downpour from when Minako first met _Motoki_...

Hiromi-sensei glared irately at her and she abruptly stopped her impatient fidgeting but could not quell the urge to glance discretely at the clock, nor could she avoid counting down the seconds until…

_5, 4, 3, 2…1!_

Hiromi-sensei shut the textbook she had been reading out of and smoothly walked behind her desk, her smart pumps clicking against the linoleum floor. She took her glasses off and pursed her lips, silently signaling and allowing the students to leave without so much as a wave of her hand in dismissal as much as it was defeat.

Arduous but with mild worry now, Usagi strung her duffle bag diagonally across her chest with practiced ease, knowing before-hand that she would be late for Mizuki-sensei's class if she hadn't brought her duffle bag with her ahead of time on her way to Physics.

It was ironic how she sometimes would curse about being late when she already knew that at least several classes beforehand, she was going to be late anyway.

Or maybe she just told herself that so she would hurry up even if she had time to spare.

Maybe it was just the principle of the matter?

Whatever that meant...

She gathered her books in one arm and began walking quickly towards the door before she could become stranded in the steady stream of students coming out of their classes. Speed-walking through the cluster of people, she turned sharply to the right and down the hall to make it to the western side of campus.

Inwardly cursing before surrendering to voice her profanities out loud, Usagi made her way towards the pristine glass double doors and pushed, running down the steps and sprinting across the other courtyard in Tokyo U's vast variety for each wing.

"Why the hell does it have to be on the other side of campus?!" she mumbled in annoyance.

Studying the block numbers of her cell phone's digital clock, Usagi didn't even struggle with all the extra baggage she carried, having been doing this routine on a daily basis.

She sincerely hoped she would be able to rid herself of this terribly inconvenient habit…

It had just crept up on her out of nowhere ever since she'd been loaded with new reports, new essays, new presentations, documentations—or did Tanaka-sensei say documentary—projects, study sessions…

Blah, blah, blah!

It was highly irresponsible of her as a University student—minus the fact that she'd been going to University now for at least a month and a half—she ran the last leg of distance into the Department of Arts, reminding herself to brush up on her time management skills that had been disrupted lately due to Minako's emotional high...

_Ugh_…

Usagi stuck her tongue out briefly before thanking God that dance was on the first floor of the Department, as she slid to a stop before the doors with a crisp three minutes to spare. She could hear the music just starting up, the base drum pulsing through the floors as people were just beginning to warm up in various splits.

Taking a moment to regain her composure, Usagi took a deep breath, held onto her books a bit tighter and then breezily strode through the doors.

She instantly felt the gentle breeze cool her somewhat flushed skin, and her body temperature changed accordingly into the familiar goose bumps she received every single time whenever she entered the studio after being in a stuffier class.

Almost in every direction, she could see her reflection staring back at her thanks to the tasteful mirrors lining the walls and—slipping out of her shoes and socks—her bare feet took to the hardwood surface fondly without the tiniest shiver up her spine.

She padded across the floor to an empty spot and passed by the raised platform in the front for when they had majors in Music come play for them to dance. Depositing her belongings against the wall unceremoniously, she couldn't be brought to care anymore. She slipped her black t-shirt off over her head, revealing a navy blue bikini-like top and shimmied out of her worn ripped jeans to show off tight black shorts for free movement. Her hair was swiftly tied up in a cascading ponytail of silver soon after.

Taking a deep breath, the young woman went about going through her familiar stretches—touching her toes, doing the splits and a couple of flips, bends and spins here and there to get warmed up.

And with her last few moments of free time, Usagi stretched her right leg perpendicular to the smooth black, metal bar lining the mirrors of the dance studio and waited—much more patiently then she did during Physics, mind you—for her turn to fill in the next sequence of the routine Mizuki-sensei had been ruthlessly burning into their muscle memory from their previous class.

Mizuki-sensei was a middle-aged woman of exactly thirty years, and was also the head of the Arts Department.

She was quite the intimidating person with her piercing grey eyes that saw all, and a willowy, petite curvy physique barely obscured by a leotard and wrap-around skirt and pale skin that made it seem as though she looked not a _day_ over twenty.

Her abundant supply of ebony hair was almost always pulled from her face so that she could perform the necessary moves in order to demonstrate the fast-paced routine that she wanted her class of fifteen dance majors to learn.

Under three goddamn minutes to perfection.

Every now and then, Usagi still had a hard time getting used to seeing this woman as a strict instructor when there was usually a serene smile, an understanding look and cheerful laugh that lit up her face before the base kicked in, but when it did…Usagi quickly learned not to assume and make an ass out of herself…

_Ever_ again.

Because really, she had to admit…the woman was good—_damn_ good—at her job but…

She was a freaking _Nazi_!

Even if you were off by the _slightest_ beat ever…she would have your ass for such a careless mistake.

Usagi knew the woman had had hers at least once.

And it was undeniably not something she wanted to repeat…it's not like she wanted to jeopardize her position on first string.

After a few practice runs the dancers lined up in an orderly fashion, prepared to go through the whole routine without stopping, improvising if ever they forgot—hoping to _God_, Mizuki-sensei wouldn't notice or at least approve of their improvisation if she did—and sweat soon became a sleek shine over their skin.

"And one, and two, and three and—"

Mizuki-sensei clapped the tempo without halt and immaculately, leaving no room for any compromises as the dancers followed through the rigorous beat to the music blaring in the background and Usagi braced herself for her chance to step up onto the pure hardwood floor that was the stage.

Nonetheless though, Mizuki-sensei's high expectations hadn't ruined Usagi's passion for the art—and while she would be coming home later that night with sore feet and an aching back—she knew it never would.

She took far too much satisfaction in the emotional release dance gave her.

She felt…rejuvenated when she danced, like her worries of the world, her little brother, her guardians and her best friend's boy problems were gone—though they've _been_ gone for the last month ever since this _Motoki_ came into the picture…she never heard the end of it, of course—and all she had to worry about was staying on time that was surprisingly easy for her compared to being on time for physics.

One, two, three.

Her heartbeat pumped adrenaline through her system in the suspenseful act of waiting before she would burst into the scene with exuberance…

Four, five, six, seven…

The warmth in her body spread, becoming a searing heat within moments.

_Eight_.

"Tsukino, lead them in!" Mizuki-sensei voiced regally, her voice echoing in her head almost with a surreal out-of-body quality to it.

There was her cue.

And then…

On the bass drum she leapt into action, a poised twister of gracefully refined movement, her twirling feet doing the work for her as she stepped lightly across the hardwood floors with two other girls consecutively following her in pursuit. She slid across the floor gloriously and twirled, extending her arm beautifully in a straight line and unfurling her fingers in a reaching motion.

She stepped twice in a quick tempo before bending her knees to make a grinding motion in a flurry of wholesome black, vibrant indigo and a glorious ivory before moving on.

Unnoticeably, she tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear where it escaped the confines of her hair-tie before she jumped into the air to do splits rejoicing in jubilation at the suspended moment where she was flying before landing perfectly with enough momentum to perform the required three pirouettes in a whirlwind of succession, her neck arching backwards to better assist her in her movement.

Nerves singing with liberation, she hummed the words of the song playing lightly under her breath, glad that distraction had not won out after all. Stepping to the right with her right foot and allowing her left leg to follow by sliding it, she brought it so her knee came to graze her stomach before she spun once more and let herself fall to the ground, to roll away from sight in order for the rest of the group to finish.

The last few measures of the song were left for freestyle and Usagi went for crump, stomping left then right jumping up and making funky jerking movements with her arms getting raunchy with the rest of the girls to face off with the guys.

Temporarily lulled into a sense of security she had been lacking lately that nothing else could provide her, Usagi relished the moments of freedom to express what she could not do with words or anything else.

For the moment, she was officially enlightened without a single concern.

In the meantime, to answer their sassy walks and sensual gyrating, the males rushed forward and slid the rest of the distance on the knees of their sweatpants, before flipping back to a stand, some of them even going on to breaking.

When another freshman finished his handstand, Mizuki-sensei clapped her hands twice and the music was abruptly cut.

"Alright, that's enough. I expect that snippet of the routine to be completely perfect by next class. You may go!" Mizuki-sensei smiled approvingly, in such a good mood that she let them off early to their own devices.

Wiping the sweat off her brow, Usagi walked towards her duffle bag and bent down to grab her water bottle much like everybody else. She gulped the water down eagerly with a greedy gratitude as it soothed her parched throat not a moment too late.

Capping the bottle back up, she placed it back in her duffle bag and slipped the ripped jeans back on over her shorts, putting the offending heavy textbooks into the duffle bag while she could. She didn't bother putting her t-shirt on, knowing that it would only end up clinging to her curves in a sultry vision, attracting male eyes to her form.

So she figured, why bother hiding it when they were already imagining seeing it?

And we all knew that sometimes—and maybe even always—your imagination could be a lot worser then what would actually happen.

Besides, it's not like they could ever interest her in any way.

With that thought, Usagi shoved the shirt into a smaller compartment of the duffle bag and stood up to hoist it over her right shoulder. Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her jeans.

While walking, she managed to slip into her Nike sneakers properly and she flipped the vibrating phone open, knowing without looking who it was that was calling her.

Usagi heaved a sigh resignedly.

Minako probably had _'exciting'_ news about her date with Motoki she just got back from.

Honestly…

_When_ was it going to _end_?

She moaned in half-hearted despair. When she first heard about Motoki, she had almost, _almost_ been able to lie and convince herself that Minako would be much too distracted with him to gush about him to her like all the others.

In fact, Usagi had even been hoping against hope, that that would be the case.

Because she'd already missed one seminar in the days that were fast approaching the two month mark of Minako's newfound relationship—and she swore to _God_, if she had to redo that report she wouldn't be able to give this _Motoki_ a fair chance…

But unfortunately, the case was the exact opposite of what she hoped it to be. And Motoki's only saving grace thus far, was that he had proven to be different from all of Minako's other relationships. SoUsagi tolerated it for the time being as she had done every other time.

And she really couldn't tell Minako anything about the good vibes she got every time she heard about Motoki. It wouldn't be fair to give her a sense of hope and security only to have been wrong.

Although her intuition had never ever, ever been wrong…she might just end up jinxing it if she got overconfident.

So not only did Usagi tolerate it, but she prayed that her instinct didn't suddenly decide to make a mistake for the first time.

The repercussions would most certainly not be good for all the people involved.

Taking a deep breath, Usagi took the plunge.

_Here I go…_

"Hello?" Usagi answered once she slipped the cordless earpiece into her left ear.

"Usagi-chan!" her best friend exclaimed while Usagi imagined her blue eyes crinkling with mild frustration—but more perkiness—blonde hair with her signature big, bright red bow.

"Yes?"

"You're late," Minako replied snippily.

On the other side of the conversation, Minako lounged leisurely on the beige plush sofa of their shared dorm while she passively—for once—channel-surfed through their television's limited variation, not really seeing the soap operas she flicked through as she waited for Usagi's reply.

She already knew it would be clueless…or nonchalant.

It really all depended on her best friend's mood though.

"For what?"

Minako smiled wryly.

Clueless, it is.

"You know!" Minako playfully exclaimed.

Usagi frowned, nimbly dodging a stray stranger from knocking her shoulder, "No…I don't…"

Minako waited for that tell-tale dawning realization where Usagi would silently gasp in sudden knowingness and then numbly grant her permission to proceed with her exciting revelation.

Though she maintained a bouncy and radiant outward vocal expression, Minako could feel a slight frown tugging at the corner of her mouth. She could tell that Usagi wasn't quite in the mood for her gushing.

Usagi hadn't gasped this time and probed her for instant details like she always did, no matter how much she sometimes didn't seem excited. No, this time, Usagi sighed and Minako could hear the scuffle of air through the mouthpiece at her best friend's sharp exhale of air.

In fact, if she didn't know any better, Minako could almost say she was hesitating or bracing herself for something.

"Okay, hit me."

Minako bit her lip admitting that she had been awfully dismissive lately. And she had failed to notice the barely existent bags growing under Usagi's usually passionate cobalt sky eyes, but nevertheless—they existed.

Other than that, Usagi put up a rather good show of covering her feelings up most of the time.

And that made the situation at hand worse, Minako noted, that something was seriously bothering Usagi enough that she had neither the energy nor the will to cover up her exhaustion…at least that's what she thought it was.

It was so saddening to Minako's normally bright spirits when everyone called her understanding, yet she could not even understand the person closest and dearest to her, her sister.

Because it was true that she couldn't understand Usagi's complex amount of contradictory facets to her personality.

Usagi, with grace and passion and freedom and intuition so wrought and oozing with raw emotion.

Usagi, gentle with humility and a tender smile for those she cared for as she tried to reassure them of their fears, no matter how insecure or childish they were.

Usagi, so spontaneous and with a laugh so loud, she didn't care about the stares she attracted.

And then there was Usagi who was so guarded and cold and distant and…_aloof_ to the perspectives of people and the world whether their views are about her or anything else.

It was like…Usagi just didn't _care_.

It wasn't bad, because at least Usagi stayed true to herself…but…

It also wasn't fair that Usagi had such a big heart so loyal and pure, yet she was so stubborn in her action to deny others the blessing of actually witnessing her random acts of kindness or generosity or even when she effortlessly cut someone down for acting as though everyone else were lesser than them.

Minako changed her teeth's grip on her lower lip to bite the inside of her cheek instead.

How did her friend manage to be so?

Usagi was a walking contradiction—not a hypocrite, as far as Minako knew but very much a walking contradiction.

It amused her sometimes, when she would walk down memory lane and remember the times during Usagi's and her years of childhood to adolescence and how not only _she_ changed from the shy little girl she was, but how Usagi changed from being rambunctious to…well…

Minako couldn't quite pick the word out, but she knew Usagi was different.

Even _she_ rarely saw Usagi's wildly boisterous side anymore.

Shaking her head of these thoughts, Minako decided not to frown, but to smile.

Because if things were going to change and her best friend was going to change, then she might as well accept it and try to stay the same to express a minor semblance of familiarity from more comforting years where things had been simpler.

She would do it—if not for herself, then for Usagi.

"Nothing, Usagi-chan," Minako murmured peacefully.

On the other side of the conversation, Usagi frowned as she ignored the gawking stares she received from both sexes—one of fascination, the other of envy—and picked up the pace to cross back over to the eastern wing.

Slightly relieved, but not willing to insult Minako by showing it, Usagi asked, "Are you sure, Mina-chan? You can tell me if you want. I don't mind at all, seriously."

And again, Minako smiled.

It was times like these that the Usagi from before truly outshined the new Usagi, because Minako could hear the insignificant amount of naïveté and innocence in the other girl's voice, reiterated by the depths of her eyes.

But it made it all the more significant to Minako.

It was good to know that while Usagi would change, she would never change so drastically that she would become alien to her because Usagi would always stay her friend, her sister with resolute firmness that no one would be able to deter her of.

Minako chuckled, realizing that it had _always_ been Usagi acting as the older one, when Minako was the one older by at least half a year.

_She always was stubborn._

"Mina-chan? Are you going to tell me or not?"

_Too stubborn for her own good._

Usagi just made it up into an empty hall, exiting the corridor leading up the side of the dormitories and now climbing up the steps, decidedly going _against_ gravity despite the numb burning in her calves as she went at a moderate pace.

For a fleeting moment, Usagi felt an uncomfortable silence sneak up on her and she put her cell phone to her ear subconsciously without realizing she was already wearing the matching earpiece.

It made her nervous that Minako might be keeping something from her because it was something she had always counted on.

It might be considered selfish of her, but Usagi was feeling the loss of her best friend more and more as the days went by.

She sometimes forgot the date now…

Not a very major detail true, but she could be quite the perfectionist sometimes and lately she had just been so disorganized and so…unlike her focused and motivated morale and mentality.

She was beginning to miss having Minako there to laugh with her and she now regretted ever hoping Minako would be too busy to gush because if Minako was too busy to gush then things were getting serious and Usagi was missing out.

And it did not bode well with Usagi.

She didn't want things to change.

She didn't want _Minako_ to change.

To be frank…she didn't want change at all.

It was too much for her right now.

And change had yet to be truly kind to her, as of yet.

An overwhelming sense of loss was beginning to overtake her mind and she forgot to breathe for just that one moment where she patiently, yet hesitantly, waited for Minako's deciding answer.

She really couldn't afford to lose Minako.

As much as Minako might be oblivious to it, she was Usagi's pillar in her times of need too, even if she cheered her without knowing what she was doing.

Minako didn't understand her, but she tried.

And that was enough.

"I'll tell you in a bit."

And then Usagi heard the dial tone just as she stopped in front of the door of her dorm and before she could even mutter '_drats!'_ when she couldn't find her key, Minako stood before her, black cordless phone in hand against her sunny yellow shirt looking extremely happy, the door held open for her.

A knowing smirk hinted at Minako's primrose lips at Usagi's random bout of forgetfulness.

Usagi grinned.

Minako didn't understand her, she tried to…and sometimes she was successful and other times she wasn't.

But at least she knew her habits.

"Nice outfit, Usagi-chan."

Usagi glanced down, noting her attire, and having forgotten it in her brief moment of uncertainty.

"Shut up."

Her reply was said in a mock tone of anger but Minako knew it was just teasing in good fun.

Because Usagi's eyes glittered so that she could see the silver flecks in them again.

As for Usagi…

Well it was a relief to burst out in laughter like she'd been needing to.

And once again, Minako came through for her without even knowing it.

Usagi smiled sheepishly.

She really needed to stop having these random moments of paranoia.

Mina-chan would never leave her.

_Never_.

* * *

_TA-DA_

This chapter mostly focuses on Minako's and Usagi's relationship. I hope you guys get the sisterly feeling I'm trying to describe. I know Motoki's and Mamoru's friendship seems a lot different compared to the girls but it all plays together…and I think it kind of resembles the actual friendship all four characters possessed back in the series.

Or at least I hope it does.

Anyways, enjoy!And there you have it people! Chapter four is up and done. Hope you find it in your hearts to continue reading!

Lol haha.

Seriously though, thanks for checking this out.

Till Chapter five…

I'm out.

ser3ne eternity.

_aka;;_**azuresass22.**

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	5. Chapter 5

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Almost Had You

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Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

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**A/N: **Just as you ordered, longer and moving forward towards a first meeting! I'll try and make my chapters longer and longer as time goes by, and hopefully even find the time to make my first few chapters longer and even better if I've got the time—but for now I hope you guys will be okay with what I'm dishing out now.

But since I'm hoping to make my chapters longer, I'm going to try and start doing that now starting with Chapter Five since I only half-tried to do so with the previous chapter.

So…

Take your time.

Oh, and warning remember, this is rated T: there's a few swears here and there. I might try to refrain from using too much but you'll be seeing it a couple of times in future chapters—again I mean no offense. And again, just in case I haven't said it before, this is rated T for future content and in this chapter there might be a few sexual innuendos. Other than that, continue.

* * *

_"Can you hear it?"_

_"Hear what?" _

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So hard and fast, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

* * *

TA-DA

"_What's up with her? A little flattery never hurt anyone. Jeez…talk about a prude. Or better yet, she's such a killjoy."_

_-Chiba Mamoru_

Chapter 5  
_first impressions_

Mamoru grinned as a particularly familiar curvy redhead with a willowy figure winked vivaciously at him, a seductive air surrounding her. As Mamoru glanced back at the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed the more pronounced sway of her hips in her faded low-rise jeans and flaming red t-shirt to match her hair, as she sashayed down the sidewalk towards another street. He couldn't help but enjoy the show and he paused for a moment to take in a chilling breath of air, completely forgetting that Motoki had been in the middle of telling him something.

Something about Minako, most likely.

Tuning him out completely now, Mamoru came to the conclusion that life was most certainly going well.

Not only were the girls very attractive at Tokyo University—or just plain Tokyo period as this recent flirting had given him insight into—but they were also very willing and up for a good tryst into the night out on the town so long as there was some serenading here, a little romancing there with a good handful of smoldering, ardent looks…

And he had them wrapped around his finger and filled with the idea of 'them' as an item within the blink of an eye.

He whispered a few sweet nothings just for good measure, too.

And he did it all without even having to touch them once with a single brush of his fingertips, lest they initiate it themselves though.

And how wicked the lust could get.

There was something about being a bachelor that could be so rewarding…

And though Mamoru normally didn't care nor give a damn about a girl's feelings—if any of them even had feelings, as he had yet to come across one of those timid and intelligently naïve girls yet—whenever he was craving for a change in scenery or flavor, he would break up with them fast and easy, quick to the cut to prevent any unnecessary elongating of the painful process.

It was like ripping off a band-aid…the faster you dealt with the nuisance the better you felt afterwards! Mamoru might even go so far as to say he did it so as not to leave infection in what little conscience he had.

He never cheated.

Shameless flirt?

Call him guilty.

Horny jerk?

Possibly, though he preferred not to term it so vulgarly.

But adulterer?

He most definitely was not.

He wondered if Motoki even knew that he still had some influence over his actions and thoughts…

Because at least one of Motoki's lectures managed to influence him even after all these years of having such disregard for and towards anyone in particular. Long since he'd become a teenager and maybe even before, he had already been beginning to forget to actually look for that highly exalted feeling of love. It almost made him laugh how insanely innocent he had been to have wanted it before. And now, he really couldn't have cared less.

Love was the last thing on his mind.

And Mamoru sometimes found that Motoki was surprisingly young in his way of thinking and thoughts and feelings. Motoki sought after that love, and even though he hadn't told Minako yet, Mamoru knew that Motoki already knew he'd found it in that perky, cheerful blonde of a future fashion designer.

Congratulations for him.

"Are you even listening to me, Mamoru?" Motoki asked impatiently, and to Mamoru's surprise he had not been rambling on about Minako at a random moment, as he usually would have been doing. It was sort of a relief to him. Motoki fretting and stressing over test exams and school was a Motoki he was used to. Then again, he was used to Motoki as a blubbering fool as well…except it bothered him a bit more than Motoki's academic worries.

At least Motoki was being reasonable about worrying about his future, though Mamoru couldn't say the same for himself. He actually hated to admit it, but he had already been lectured by the Dean once now.

The Dean's expression upon receiving him had looked entirely defeated—resigned, actually—and his voice's tone had been soft with authority to show his… 'disappointment'.

He had felt remorse for his actions too, and had lectured himself later on, for he must have been getting sloppy to have gotten caught within a two-month time frame...It usually took them longer to catch onto his naughty deeds.

Of course, the Dean didn't know that his remorse was for an entirely different reason than his and other than that, he approached it the way he did everything else and thought of it as holding no meaning to him.

"Yes, Motoki, I'm listening."

"Good, because I want to know where the hell you're taking me. I've got some kind of pop quiz tomorrow on all these different—"

Mamoru smirked lazily at Motoki's frazzled nerves, "Relax, will you? You'll ace it like you did all the others. You will be a doctor someday."

Motoki's hands had been clenched in the pockets of his black jeans before he unconsciously pulled the collar of his blue button-up over his jacket. His defensive stance relaxed as the muscles in his shoulders gradually lost their tense state at Mamoru's unintentional compliment. It was times like these that reassured Motoki that having Mamoru as his best friend wasn't based on an ill sense of judgment when they were younger.

Smiling as he was about to thank Mamoru, Mamoru continued his sentence as though he'd never stopped to pause or think about the repercussions of Motoki's normally mild temper…that just happened to be not so mild at the moment due to his current state of panic. He remained just as faultless as usual though as he brushed an invisible piece of lint away from his black shirt.

"…but the keyword there is someday. So stop being such a dork and just enjoy our trip to the club alright, bookworm? Besides, it's not really a pop quiz if you know it's going to happen—those things are supposed to come at random, right?"

The corner of Motoki's lips twitched and he wasn't sure whether to laugh at Mamoru's apparent audaciousness or to scowl and hit him upside the head. Honestly, his best friend needed to learn some concern for other human beings beliefs and feelings. So what if he cared so much about his education?

It was certainly much better than drooling after that latest piece of ass that Mamoru was always after. When was the last time Motoki had seen his best friend actually open a book? It wasn't fair that everything came so easily to his friend, who he had never seen crack a book for an upcoming exam. Sometimes it made him scoff in disgust at Mamoru's shameless ways, but then the blonde would quickly rethink that course of action, remembering the times Mamoru had gotten him out of a bind...besides, maybe he just didn't study where he could see him.

Letting it slide, Motoki sighed and already knew that Mamoru was right. He needed to relax…so that's exactly what he would do. He had a girlfriend, true, but Motoki knew Minako wasn't the jealous type if he went to a simple club. She was far too secure in her confidence and trusted in her other half completely.

Motoki wasn't the least bit worried.

It helped that he already knew that Minako and he were getting somewhere—after all, she wanted him to meet her best friend!

He was honored even more that it was her that brought it up out of nowhere when they were just out for a casual walk and going to the café where they had first met.

He had been nervous because she hadn't been her usual talkative self and as she always seemed to sense when he was uncomfortable she would suddenly burst out with an exulted exclamation—the way she had done about introducing him…even though he had prodded just a little.

Motoki was feeling heavenly as he walked side by side with Minako at his side. He was still getting used to feeling her hand wrapped so tenderly within his own. Her fingers were so dainty; he sometimes feared he would crush them if he held on too tight even though as far as his medical knowledge knew, it wasn't possible for him to do so.

Unless he actually wanted to cause her harm—which he steadfastly did not.

He hadn't even kissed her yet…

He sighed to himself.

He was so crazy about her. And he wondered why he always put Mamoru through torture with his incessant panicking and constant questioning as he was always worried about impressing her when by the time he actually saw her, he became at ease and completely forgot about his earlier panic. When he was around her his normal nature came out, calm and mellow. Then when the feeling washed over him at the sight of her, he would pity Mamoru for his own absurd insecurities.

Because he knew that the cycle would repeat the next time he was to go out with her and Mamoru would be the one to suffer.

Maybe he should get his best friend a present sometime just for putting up with him.

Thinking this almost made him smile, but then he shook the notion away. A simple thank you would suffice for Mamoru, surprisingly enough for his desiring nature. But maybe it was different when it came to those close to him…Mamoru was a much different person deep down—not once had he insulted him for wanting to be with Minako. Instead, he merely gave a theatric sigh and sardonic smirk before he listened—or rather, drowned him out because Motoki did notice that his friend did that, no matter what Mamoru believed.

It was nice that Mamoru accepted and didn't try to change his views on relationships when his were the exact polar opposite. Motoki sometimes thought he already expected him to flat-out propose despite their age…Mamoru just had that knowing look in his eyes that always gave him the creeps because he wasn't sure how his undemanding friend could be so observant.

Right now though, he was more concerned about Minako. Her striking features were riddled with a dazed expression and her eyes looked glazed over as she blindly followed him down the sidewalk with her hand still tucked sweetly in his. Her steps echoed lightly against the concrete floor and Motoki noticed she would jump every now and then whenever she snapped back into focus for a few moments. He knew because he could feel the way her fingers twitched in his.

--

_"Are you alright, Mina-chan?"_

_Her eyes distractedly slid to her left at the endearment where he stood, with his jacket brushing against the sleeve of hers, "Hmm?"_

_"You've been quiet the whole time. What's on your mind?" there was a worried frown on his face that she could see and she was brought out of her reverie with the urge to comfort him._

_"Oh, no!" she smiled apologetically when he winced at her abruptness and she continued on in softer tones, "It's just…I was thinking that I should introduce you to my best friend."_

_His eyes widened when it registered in his mind what she was suggesting and Minako rushed on unceremoniously, taking his reaction the wrong way as though she were moving too fast and the words came blurting out of her mouth before she could stop them._

_"I mean, it has been almost two and a half months and I…I really like you, Motoki and I'm starting to feel bad for Usagi because sometimes I catch myself looking back and seeing all the times where I'm constantly talking about you with her and I feel like I'm barely there for her. I just thought that if she knew you…"_

_Throughout her winding speech, Motoki was stuck on the part where she admitted out loud that she truly liked him. He already knew that she did, as she had accepted dates for two and a half months now but still, it was nice hearing it out loud from her on occasion. And this just happened to be the first time._

_"I'd just feel better about it," she trailed off, biting her lip in that habit he was already attached to and she smiled back at him nervously._

_"Usagi?" Motoki questioned, trying the name out._

_Taking it as incentive that might be leading to approval to her idea, Minako continued to speak rapidly unless he suddenly change his mind if she didn't explain swiftly enough._

_"That's my best friend's name. She's really stubborn and protective of me but I think you guys would get along! She says the funniest things sometimes without even trying because she's really straightforward although she usually doesn't mean to insult you and—"_

_"Usually?"_

_Apparently he was still stuck on monosyllabic responses and he really couldn't help it when Minako's face just seemed to be getting more and more excited the more she talked about her wonderful best friend that was gorgeous and talented and extremely witty._

_"And you could bring yours, too! I mean, I know he might be busy but—"_

_"Mina-chan," Motoki soothed since he had already come to his decision while cutting her off, "I really like you, too."_

_Minako immediately stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth still parted in the action of forming words when a gasp cut her off, whereas her blue eyes widened noticeably under the streetlights. The extra light brought golden hues into her eyes where he could sometimes see a hint of green if he really tried. And it was completely worth seeing that big smile bloom on her face._

_And then slowly growing nearer, fingers still intertwined he brought her closer to him. His free hand rose to graze his knuckles against her cheek, curling a lock of her hair around her ear with a natural touch as he leaned in, until he could no longer tell whose body heat belonged to whom anymore._

_And then he sealed her lips with a gentle, chaste kiss._

_For a few moments, he simply savored the feeling of warmth that erupted in his chest, spreading out where the only thing he could feel was her kiss and her fingers smoothly gripping his more firmly only to abandon them and wrap her arms around his neck while the pressure on his lips grew until they were both breathless._

_When he pulled away, still close enough to be in contact with her as her loose hair brushed against his cheek, hers were rosier than normal and her eyes were sparkling like she was lost in thought. Motoki grinned and decided he wouldn't _

_bother Mamoru for the next few days just to placate him if he was going to get him to come to this forthcoming meeting._

_Or it might've been the plain fact that he got a kiss for the night and satisfaction in seeing Mamoru annoyed just wasn't going to be worth it tonight._

_Distantly, he wondered if Minako would be talking about this with Usagi._

_--_

That had been two weeks ago…and Minako was planning on them all meeting together later on this week…

"Are you done spacing out now, Motoki?"

Motoki's head snapped to the right where Mamoru's ambling walk came to a stop and he was posed in a laidback fashion with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his brow raised at Motoki in an impatient way before a sheepish smile made it's way to the other male's face.

"Heh, sorry."

Mamoru shook his head with a musing smile before he half-turned and led Motoki through the open door of the club where a bright neon-sign hung, illuminating the normally dark urban streets of Tokyo with it's violet glow where letters in cursive at least two feet in height across the top of the building sat the words Tainted Pure.

As the two freshmen stepped into the club they were immediately assaulted with blaring techno music, shaking the ground with its loud volume and Motoki could only shake his head at the sheer predictability that Mamoru would be comfortable in a place like this where it was loud and wild and utter chaos.

The collar of his leather jacket rose along his neck as Mamoru shrugged at Motoki's dry look, already knowing what Motoki thought of the place, but Mamoru knew that by the end of the night Motoki would be hammered and cursing him in the morning for his hangover like all the times before.

Fellow students from the University could be seen on the dance floor grinding it out with other people, rolling with sweat and sensuality while their faces were plagued by the shades of the rainbow ranging from the deepest navy, or a fierce red and the occasional blinding saffron of yellow strobe lights. The bartenders were busy at work, their wrists flicking in a fluid motion as they sent shots of amber alcohol wavering down the counter to the awaiting customers hanging off the stools.

The DJ stood off to the side, pulling at the two disks under his hands professionally when opportunity arose and he urged the crowd into eager excitement with his shout-outs and when he waved his arms in the air, his cheek still dutifully pressed against the expensive headphones snaked around his neck.

Mamoru rolled his shoulders back in his trusted leather jacket, worn with creases from overuse and his jeans turned a few shades darker along the tastefully ripped hems under the strobe lights where they had dragged over his shoes and turning to Motoki, he explained that he was going for a few drinks before hitting the dance floor.

Motoki nodded, about to follow him when Mamoru's hands shot out like quick lightning and shoved him cleanly into the mess of flesh that was the club's dance floor, leaving him helpless to stop gravity's pull as his balance deserted him. Allowing himself this privilege just this once, Mamoru laughed out loud at Motoki's irked expression when hands instantly latched onto him where tipsy girls now moved along him.

He was unimpressed by Motoki's glowering and slitting motions across his neck that he would kill him later. His main goal for this night had been to get Motoki to unwind and relax because Mamoru knew his best friend, and he knew that Motoki wouldn't do well on that pop quiz if he spent the whole night agonizing and worrying over it like he had once let him do.

No, Mamoru learned a long time ago that the best way to get Motoki to relax was to push him out of his comfort zone and boundaries every now and then since God knows; Motoki had plenty of pathetic boundaries. He was only nineteen for God's sakes, he shouldn't be stressing out so early. Didn't his stupid medical books tell him that stress was a leading cause in…well—for lack of the 'proper' term—ruining one's life?

At the rate the blonde was going, he'd be dead by the time he was twenty-three and then where would that lead his precious girlfriend, Minako? A grieving girlfriend and not the supposed-to-be widow, that's what. And yeah, yeah Mamoru already knew Motoki was going to marry that girl so why bother. If he was happy, then he was happy and fine with him.

Thinking this, Mamoru turned towards the bar once he managed to elbow his way through the dispersing line-up and slapped down a bill deciding on getting an order of a simple beer. No margaritas tonight, people—this is just casual, nothing special because there was no date to woo tonight…

"What can I get you?"

…Or not…

The voice was distinctly feminine and soft, yet Mamoru could clearly hear it over the pulsing of the ground under the soles of his shoes and when he looked up her features stood out straight away in the crowded club. And even though it was hard to see her full features under the dim lights and shadows, he could tell she was a looker…a damn good one at that.

Her eyes were a luminous cross between cerulean and cobalt and they twinkled with an intense clear silver whenever a cheerier light hit her face instead of the dark violets and indigos that had been conquering the club earlier. A pert nose rested in the middle of her face with full cherry lips.

Her skin was on the tanner side, free of any freckles, giving her an exotic look with her hair that contrasted against her complexion when it bordered between white and platinum blonde that flowed freely from any constraints except for the random braids splayed in its amount. Her hair had to fall at least to her waist, from what he could see and it slipped over her slender shoulders like water, her bangs' fringe framing her eyes.

And shit…she was wearing leather!

A leather corset-like top wrapped around her developed torso showing in the front, clinging to an hourglass figure and leaving her navel in plain sight where he could see a tight, flat stomach where the beginning of faded jeans rested on her hips… and was that a silver chain hanging at her hip…?

If a date was what God wanted him to have, then by God, a date would be his. Time to turn that charm on, Chiba…because damn were you going to need it. Mamoru's smile turned flirtatious towards the now wary and skeptical bartender who raised one silvery arched brow at him.

"Just a beer, thanks," Mamoru purred.

The bartender gave a light nod, her braids swishing as she turned for the ordered beer while inwardly masking her disgust. Now she had to deal with another idiot that thought she was just some chick to be played with. Because yeah, she saw the way he checked her out! Did he even realize how many moments had passed with him just raking his eyes over her in a not so discrete way? She would've regretted picking the outfit, but found it wasn't worth worrying over because of some stranger. She sighed even though it was mostly out of slight exhaustion.

Were there honestly no good men left out there?

Why did God only leave these pathetic little boys with oversized egos?

Oh well, at least there was only an hour or so left to her shift. Naru was going to owe her for bailing out at the last minute and calling her to fill in for her. But then again, maybe she was just lucky that she wouldn't have to repay Naru for anymore favors after this…

But if this guy…her lips pursed as she didn't finish the thought. It wasn't even going to be worth paying Naru back, was it?

Her stomach was sinking.

An omen…as usual.

Usagi took a deep breath, bracing herself for pick-up lines as her slim fingers gripped the neck of a Corona on the shelf that was behind her and then turned back to the stranger, feeling something odd about him but not questioning his deep navy eyes that delved into an impenetrable obsidian around the edges of his irises, where she supposed he was attempting to make her swoon with his seductive smile and unruly onyx locks.

She wondered if he was from around here, for she hadn't seen very many people with skin as tanned as his, but she figured she wouldn't be caring anytime soon because this guy was about to piss her off. She just knew it, in fact—she could feel it.

So she swiftly handed him the beer and turned to go, but found that his fingers had somehow managed to trap hers against the bottle and she couldn't move under his firm but light grip so as not to hurt her. Usagi almost thought she could've been fooled by the mock kindness in his eyes, but reined in her temper.

"Yes?"

It wasn't as clear-cut as she normally was but at least she didn't waste her voice on extra words that he would've most undoubtedly been able to twist into some sexual innuendo. Usagi could see it; there were a lot of female pairs of eyes drawn to his broad shoulders and dark features, almost boring into his back and trying to kill her with their glares of envy.

"Would you like to dance?"

Well, there it goes. She'd already categorized him into the 'players' section.

Because really, he just had to be a player. His voice was too smooth a deep baritone and too much like velvet and silk combined, except it wasn't to the touch but it was more like the sound embodiment of velvet and silk. He kept watching her with his deep blue eyes as if he were trying to hypnotize her and she almost laughed because it wasn't working. And his callused hand still pinned hers to the bottle giving her excess warmth that she didn't want in this place swimming with people.

He was too sensual for his own good to merely want a relationship; he was looking for one night or some kind of casual rendezvous.

If one night was all he asked for, she could certainly give him one night since she herself wasn't looking for a relationship. But then again, she wasn't looking for anything at all, so if she was going to give him anything it would be a rough tongue-lashing to last him at least two whole days of moping pride.

And like hell, was she just going to be another notch on that goddamn bedpost of his, the insolent man-whore.

It's too bad because Usagi was sure, that if it had been anyone but her, they might've already fallen for him like the cliché saying 'you had me at hello'.

But she guessed it didn't really apply to her since he hadn't greeted her with 'hello', but more like she greeted him as her job dictated she do.

And it only added fuel to the fire when she realized that there was a fair chance Minako might've fallen for him if she'd met him before Motoki, and the thought raised her temper to rising heights at the possibility of another broken-hearted stage.

"Is that a request, or an order?" Usagi asked calmly, her eyes never leaving his.

His type was the kind that triumphed when your eyes skittered away defenselessly, leaving yourself vulnerable and letting his type know that you were an easy argument to win over with some meaningless actions and pretty lies meant to intoxicate you.

And some girls wouldn't care if they were being manipulated or being lied to because they just wanted it. They just wanted company so bad, and not to feel alone. Hell, they just wanted to be wanted and who cared for how long as long as they felt it at least once?

Girls like that were pathetic.

Mamoru didn't particularly like that kind either. They were too easy, too willing and too…clingy. Willing was never bad, but if you were the kind that was desperate, not wild…then it wasn't very attractive. And Mamoru mostly just went for those girls on dares that he would sometimes be given by friends left at home. Those girls were just so eager to please, but so hesitant to explore.

To get to the point, they were just boring.

But this girl…this girl was interesting. She was being coy, questioning his intentions and defiant with her piercing stare that almost would've surprised him with its calculating intensity if he weren't used to some girls being keenly intuitive. And that's just what she was.

So, she already knew he was bad…he had to applaud her for being the fastest to pick up on it—and for even picking up on it at all—except now he wanted that one dance even more. He wasn't sure how he would react if she rejected him because she looked to be fighting not to just burst out and hit him already. He didn't deny that he believed she'd probably pack a good punch.

He blinked innocently, "A request, of course."

Oh God, she hated how he blinked like that. Like she didn't know the tricks to the game and the actions that led to their ultimate goal and prize that she had seen used so many times on other friends and attempted on Minako…that football jerk really did deserve the broken nose…

"Then I'm free to decline, right?"

The stunned look on his face was priceless but Usagi could inwardly compliment him for covering it up not a second later with a supposed boyish grin as he scratched the back of his neck to depict bashfulness. What a low-life snake.

He hadn't been expecting that. His jaw twitched unnoticeably in the dark. Didn't they say the stereotype blonde was—Mamoru inwardly berated himself for that. Stereotypes were one of his pet peeves. He couldn't stand some of the ridiculous stereotypes nowadays…God, did he just contradict himself without meaning to…?

He needed to focus.

"Well, you could if you wanted to," Mamoru agreed, somewhat lost about the opposite sex for the first time, "but I'd rather you give me a chance."

Usagi cursed. He didn't know how to give up either, damn. She hated the persistent ones, they were so damn pushy. They looked all happy-happy but really they were so annoying how they tried finding new ways to phrase a question just so it didn't sound like they were repeatedly asking you the same thing…which was worse because then they were obsessive.

"I'd rather not bother with you."

There.

She said it. It was out in the open now. Bluntness had never failed her before and hopefully she could distract him enough with it to get away so he wouldn't be able to find her…

Damn herself for having such light hair in the Japan network of rare enough blondes as it was and instead of just normal blonde hair her blonde hair was…was silver blonde.

"Why not?"

Okay, if Mamoru was stunned before he was flabberghasted now.

She didn't want to bother with him?

At all?

Not one bit?!

"You're a player."

It almost scared the shit out of him how she said it so plainly. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and he watched as she shrugged like it really wasn't her fault that she could see it. How could she tell? Was he losing his touch?

Did it have to do with Motoki…?

Damn it, he knew it wasn't good for him to be around Motoki while he blabbed on and on about love and crap—even drowning his best friend out he could still subconsciously take whatever he said to heart…!

Wait, what the hell…?

Why did he even care?

Mamoru managed to inwardly smack himself on the head, before a small smile came to his face. She was just a girl, who cared what she thought? He'd changed a lot of those other girls' minds like her before; she was probably just one of the more smarter ones of those other girls who were ruled by their logic. She was probably scared she'd get hurt like all the others.

This amused him to no end.

Well, that was fine. He could easily lull her into a sense of security and then go for the kill. She might prove to be more worth it than any of the others, especially since she had to be the most stunning one he'd met so far in his short stay around campus and she was possibly the most intelligent…scratch that, she was.

"All I asked for was a dance, what makes you think I want anything more than that?"

He wondered if he'd seen her before and if he had, he wondered how he could have ever missed her with her bright features…It was almost strange glancing at their hands still in contact. He was darker than her by a few shades…and his hair was just a whole other color compared to hers…

Was this supposed to be some symbolic thing of yin and yang or something…is she pure?

Usagi rolled her eyes brazenly, "Don't play innocent, asshole. What do you take me for, one of those helpless little girls desperate for some dirty little deeds under the covers?"

Err, did he say pure?

Never mind then, she's way too sassy for pure…and she's got a potty mouth, too.

How…refreshing.

"You don't look like a little girl," Mamoru smirked, "I think you can take care of yourself if things get too rough."

Her eyes sparked with unhidden anger.

Now there was something to be attracted to!

"You better hope there wasn't some kind of double-meaning there."

Hmm, she was actually threatening him. That was different, he'd never been threatened by the fairer of sexes before. Or maybe this girl was just plain different.

Mamoru scoffed to himself.

Different?

Was that the best he could come up with?

This girl was beyond different, she was…intriguing and...bold.

If she was bold then he could do bold, too. That was all fine and dandy with him. In fact, it was even better…

Finally, someone with a personality.

"I'm not really into sadism… but what if there was?"

"Okay, hold it right there. That whole husky tone thing you're doing? Yeah, it's not working. And I might've let that double-meaning thing slip under the pretense that you're hammered, but you haven't even drank your goddamn beer yet. And if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd take your hand back," Usagi muttered fiercely.

"You know, there aren't very many girls around here as feisty as you…"

" 'You like it'," Usagi quoted the overused comeback that many men used on women like her with nauseating accuracy, "I know. I don't care. Take your testosterone somewhere else."

Mamoru laughed outright at her cheeky tenacious retort, unable to hold it in and Usagi was momentarily astounded by the first sincere thing she'd heard from him during the course of their entire conversation…if you could even call it that.

Leaning forward Mamoru murmured, "You're not very good at first impressions, are you?"

A smile edged onto his face at the wide range of emotions this little minx managed to extract from him in the span of at least a five minute conversation that not many others have managed to get from him in…well, forever…

Mamoru watched as Usagi sighed in exasperation, throwing her free hand to rest on her hips as he still obstinately refused to free her right hand.

"Oh God, that means I'm leaving a damn impression on you, doesn't it?" Usagi questioned before shaking her head in regretful dread that he might remember her, "Never mind. And who are you to talk? If I'm bad at impressions then so are you, you lying flirt."

"Touché," Mamoru pulled her closer by her still entrapped hand so he could whisper with his lips and breath brushing against her ear he said, "You're pretty damn good at this. Have you ever played the game?"

"Why would I waste my time on something like that?" Usagi stood still, her shoulders pushed back and her back tensed uncomfortably as she tried to arch away from his touch, "I will kill you if you try and kiss me, right now."

He frowned at the blaze in her eyes, "And why's that, never been kissed before?"

Usagi just barely concealed the flare of emotion that was practically just begging to be noticed and acknowledged under the curtain that the dim lights and pounding music provided. She was just about ready to throttle this jerk for making her heartbeat skip a beat in her outrage.

"You disgust me. It's people like you that ruin things for everyone else," the words rolled off her tongue, the syllables easily sliding into the open air drenched with resentment and saturated with barely obscured fury.

She was on the verge of just saying she hated him. But to say that she hated him would be terrible not only because it's not nice—no she didn't care about his feelings, but she was raised not to throw the word around carelessly—and also because hate was a strong feeling. And for him to get such a rise of feeling out of her would mean that she had to care about what he thought. Not to mention the fact that there was a thin line between love and hate, despite her belief that it was preposterous Usagi just didn't want to try with this guy. He was pissing her off enough as it was.

And anger was a strong enough feeling; he didn't have the right to get this much out of her. Come on, where was that frostbite in her comments? Why were they all on fire? Fire meant passion and she had no passion for this antagonizing jerk at all. She would not fool herself into thinking she did—she'd only known him for a couple of minutes.

It had only been a couple of minutes...right?

"Wh-what?" Mamoru cringed at the stutter that he couldn't suppress at hearing the loathing in her words, a reaction he was not used to. He was turning into Motoki. He had to be—stuttering?! What was he, thirteen?!

Mamoru glanced to his side to see Motoki half-drunk already most likely from drinks that girls had been bringing him…that should be him!

The moron still managed not to succumb completely to the influence of alcohol and accidentally cheat. Mamoru had to halfheartedly give him props for his unyielding stubborn faithfulness.

Unflinching, Usagi brought his attention back to her without meaning to, "I've wasted enough of my time on you so why don't you go dance with one of those hound girls drinking up the sight of you out there and try your luck with them."

He waited, slightly insulted and put off that she so coldly rebuffed him and the fire he had seen moments ago had now been doused into a freezing ice that numbed him. Without meaning to, he let her hand go from where they had been joined by the neck of his Corona's beer bottle. He nearly jumped, expecting her to slam the bottle down on the polished counter but was surprised when she simply laid it down gently, uncapped it for him and slid it towards him in an almost haughty manner.

"Drink your beer, get laid and leave me alone."

She said it like they were such mundane tasks—not that they weren't for him, but wasn't she supposed to be more worried about her fellow females' feelings? Why wasn't she slapping him across the face for his callous ways yet? Did she really not care…?

He could almost call her a bitch for it…but then thought better of it because she was probably not butting in since it wasn't her business and he found that admirable. So there was such thing as a female who wasn't nosy and needed to know every single detail of everyone's life.

Raising a sarcastic brow, Mamoru reiterated what she said, "Drink my beer, get laid and leave you alone? Are you sure that's all you want from me?"

She ignored the sarcasm oozing from him and instead replied for the last time, she swore, "Yes, I'm sure…but you might want to rearrange that to-do list to 'leave me alone', 'drink your beer', and then 'get laid'."

She didn't exactly want to be around to see it happen when he finished those tasks.

Unable to resist pissing her off once more, since he was feeling slightly spiteful towards her for saying it so indifferently he put on one last flirtatious smile—though he hardly felt like flirting with her now—and said, "You look hot when you're angry…but I think you'd look beautiful if you smiled."

Infuriated at his devilish wink, Usagi glared and pointed to the direction of the dance floor, "Drink your beer and leave…your friend looks like he's about to be molested by those vicious vultures."

Charming exterior now deteriorated and slightly surprised that she had noticed him come in with Motoki, Mamoru rolled his eyes at the irate blonde and sauntered away with a laidback walk, the bill he had originally slapped down on the counter now held between his index and middle finger.

"Just for that, you're not getting a tip."

And simply out of childishness as she could no longer be bothered to go for the last word that would not be effective with his back turned to her…

Usagi flicked a saucy one-finger salute at him and couldn't help but be satisfied when he managed to catch it as he was about to turn around to goad her once more.

Mamoru glowered at her stormy eyes and turned back around, his impressive reflexes dropping his beer to the floor just in time to catch Motoki as he passed out.

He could almost hear her laughing at him when he glanced at the shattered shards remaining of his beer and cursed at all the damn trouble he went through for it.

He wondered how the hell Motoki passed out so fast when they'd just gotten here, but when he glanced at his watch, he realized that it hadn't been a few minutes he'd spent arguing with that dominatrix of a bartender…but at least an hour and a couple of minutes.

He had wasted his night bantering with a man-hater, and he didn't even know her name.

Damn it all to hell.

* * *

_TA-DA_

Yay, it's done.

There you have it you guys—Chapter 5. But as you can see, throughout the time that Mamoru and Usagi are talking they don't know each other at all since they never got each other's name and because of how dark it is in the club. And I made it so that Usagi works as a part-time bartender since she and Mina both have to pay for their food and other things such as that somehow.

I hope the little MotokixMina fluff wasn't overly corny…I'm not usually good with those things, but I tried and I also did try making this chapter longer.

And in advance, I hope that you guys don't get offended or anything if I somehow used a stereotype that was insulting because that wasn't my intention.

Anyways, if you have the time, let me know what you think.

ser3ne eternity.

_aka;;_**azuresass22.**

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	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Almost Had You

* * *

Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey, guys. So, so, so sorry I took so long to update! I had tests to study for but other than that there's really no need for me to write you a note so I figure I'll just stop talking and let you enjoy the rest of the chapter in 3, 2…and 1.

* * *

"_Can you hear it?"_

_"Hear what?"_

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

* * *

_TA-DA_

"_The nerve of that guy, I could kill him! Who does he think he is? The stingy jerk can go to hell for all I care. If I ever see him again, it'll only be too soon."_

_-Tsukino Usagi_

Chapter 6  
_the boyfriend interrogations_

A few days had passed since Usagi's annoying encounter with the self-conceited '_heartbreaker'_ from her bartending shift at the club, and though it should not have bothered her, Usagi really never could get back into the swing of things after being so easily aggravated with the stranger.

Vaguely, she realized how risky it was that someone—whose name she didn't even know, by the way—could have effected her routine so easily and Usagi belatedly realized how disturbed she was by the fact. She had already established with herself that she had left an impression on him despite her intentions—she could only comfort herself that it was a bad impression—but she had been _sure_ he wouldn't leave one with her.

Because he was an ass.

Like all the others.

So there was nothing special or out of the ordinary about him, since he was just like all the others as her earlier statement showed.

But was it just her, or was there a pattern forming?

Usagi kept zoning out whenever the idea of that bothersome _boy_—because he was most _definitely_ not manly—during Hiromi-sensei's tedious lectures—the kind of lecture that was not so easily remembered once it was over. She had to be stupid or overly cocky to think that she wouldn't need those notes as Hiromi-sensei's pursed lips continued to move to form the sounds of the needed words to inform them that a test would be coming up, only to be heard muted through her ears.

Usagi scoffed quietly to herself.

What _was_ it with her and analyzing meaningless things when she didn't even give a damn…it was almost like she _tried_ to drive herself crazy…

Hell, maybe she was already there.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

She should just forget about the jerk and focus on getting to Minako's damn lunch—because she refused to call it a double-date since she was only going there to meet Minako's latest beau—and hopefully her permanent one—not to fraternize with the possible enemy…

Whoever Minako's new boyfriend was this boyfriend's best friend was the enemy. Usagi knew it—she could _feel_ it—Minako was trying to set her up again with yet another low-life.

But maybe she wasn't giving her friend enough credit and she should be giving her the benefit of the doubt since that's what friends did for each other. They dismiss the other's faults in favor of viewing the good and beautiful traits of the other.

Right?

Right.

…Oh _man_, who the hell was she kidding?

Minako was going to set her up anyway, her feelings and protests about it be damned. If he was single, straight and good looking then Usagi could kiss her life as a singleton momentarily goodbye…God knows she would lose the freedom for the next few hours Minako demands she spends with the supposedly worthy man. She was going to be bored out of her mind, she just knew it. Minako always had this way of mistaking certain guys as being the perfect type for her which was strange, considering Usagi didn't really have a _'type'_.

She winced, remembering the many failed dates she had gone and attended to just to pacify Minako long enough for her hope that she would find her _one and only_ and, forever be attached to someone instead of single and '_lonely'_...to be momentarily achieved. The only good that came out of going on those loathed dates was that her best friend often left her alone for a few days, allowing her some peace and quiet to sooth her irritated state of mind.

And for crying out loud, she wasn't lonely at all!

Sometimes Minako made it sound as though she were _pining_ after love. She acted as though _love_ was her sole reason for living and existing. Jeez, the older girl in question honestly didn't give her enough credit—she had plenty of love from her and their small family to live off of. Who said she needed love and had to love the way a woman loved a man?

And _maybe_ if there _were_ any men left, she could actually let it happen to her! She could actually let herself fall, but why the hell would she ever let herself do that? It was just pointless. If it happened, it happened. Why force it?

Ugh.

And didn't Minako understand that practically every male of the opposite sex out there was full of themselves?! Not everyone was as sweet, or kind, or romantic, or loving or whatever the hell the traits were that made up the '_perfect'_ boyfriend—it was _sickening_…!

_And—_there was no such _thing_ as _perfect_!

She wasn't being cynical.

Not at all.

She was just being realistic.

And besides, even if she didn't want to '_fraternize'_ with the possible enemy—she probably would _have_ to because the '_possible enemy'_ was probably the _'best friend'_ of the _'perfect boyfriend'_ and the _'perfect boyfriend' _and _her _best friend would be spending time together and then _her_ best friend would make _her_ come along so that they wouldn't drift and then the _'perfect boyfriend'_ would bring _his_ best friend and thus—it would become a time where she could and _would_ fraternize with the dreaded…_possible enemy._

Goodie.

The dance major blinked out of her sarcastic stupor and as a genuine smile lit up her face, Usagi zoomed out of class in a grateful whirl of moonlit locks at the blessed toll of the Dean's announcements. And while she knew she was going to have to write at least an extra five hundred words for that report for running out on Hiromi-sensei during her irate tirade…she really couldn't care less. It was a miracle she even made it through that supposedly '_short'_ lecture. She could almost accuse her fellow classmate for being a damn liar.

In fact, she _should…_!

Her slim black and silver phone rang in her pocket and vibrated uncomfortably against her ticklish spot through the shielding material of her belt until her fingers hastily reached to pull the device out of her trademark ripped jeans pocket and flipped it open with an easy flick of her wrist.

She could take a rain-check on that earlier thought, right?

She absently juggled her textbook to her other arm as she slipped her black jean jacket on over her hugging v-neck football jersey-like shirt, the numbers _23_ scrawled over the front of her chest and stomach, the hem riding up as she walked until her navel showed while she tried to hold the phone pressed in between her cheek and shoulder until she could find the earpiece to go in her ear.

"Hello?"

"Usagi-chan! Where are you?" Minako asked, her finger curling some blonde locks behind her ear, a frown creasing her forehead as she waited in the courtyard located in front of the student parking spaces.

Usagi replied casually as she paused, looking at all the stuff she carried in her arms and bag as she tried to decide what to do with it all, before finally placing the earpiece in, "I just got out of Physics. Hiromi-sensei apparently has another test for us to study for, and we have to write some lab report and then blah, blah, blah."

Minako smiled at the expected reply, and sighed melodramatically, "Well then, I _guess_ I could wait for you while you drop your stuff off at the dorm."

Usagi blinked but then decided not to ask her friend how she knew and grinned, "Thanks Mina-chan, I'll meet you there!"

Usagi switched directions towards the dormitories, already knowing where she would find Minako when she told her earlier that week the plans for that particular Friday.

"Uh huh," Minako playfully rolled her eyes, "But be quick about it, we still have to meet them at the Crown."

"Mina-chan, it's me we're talking about. If anyone should have to be quick, it's you."

"…I resent that, Usagi-chan," Minako frowned over the connection, absently staring as the sun managed to peek past a stubborn cloud.

"Bet you I can get down in five."

Usagi waited pointlessly, as Minako responded to the baiting bet without even thinking about the consequences. They often made innocent wagers such as these, but sometimes never really followed through on the stakes.

"Loser has to pay for lunch," Minako suggested and then, "Five seconds of your five minutes just passed, Usagi-chan."

Smirking, Usagi bid Minako goodbye and then proceeded to sprint the short distance towards the dorm, rapidly climbing up the steps and grabbing the key under their welcome mat to unlock the door. She stepped inside where she dumped her stuff into her room, tied her hair up, fixed the flat leather cord she wrapped around her wrist three times, kicked the toe of her boot on the floor for security and then ran back out the door to lock it before she went flying through the halls, stairs, and courtyards to where Minako stood in front of their black Volvo.

Standing with her arms crossed triumphantly, Usagi raised a brow expectantly. Minako pulled the sleeve of her cropped white jean jacket to glance at her watch in minor disappointment that she had lost another bet to her friend again and got into the driver's seat, the leather cool against her legs through the material of her black skirt while Usagi looked confused but eager at the prospect of free food.

She was starving.

"Get in the damn car."

Usagi's eyes glittered before a full-blown grin grew on her face and she pumped a fist in the air.

"_Yes!"_

--

Minako drove into the parking lot of the Crown Café, smoothly shifting gears to park into the given space outside and Usagi was relieved when she didn't scratch the bumper against the side of the sidewalk like she did when they were first just learning how to drive at sixteen. Usagi cringed; it would've been a disaster if her memory served right…

She reached for the door, pulling at the handle as she opened it until she was halfway out with the sole of her black boots on the concrete when Minako's hand reached out and gripped her left arm from across the stick shift between the driver's and passenger's seat, her peach baby doll shirt fluttering with her movement. She bit her lip in pent up anticipation and nervousness.

God, what would Usagi think of Motoki?

Would she approve?

Please, please,_ please_ approve!

"Mina-chan, are you okay?" Usagi asked, sinking back into her seat and closing the door quietly. Looking at her best friend, she noticed how flustered Minako was. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her custom-made shirt she personally made through her designing skills. Usagi quickly covered the other girl's fingers with her own, worried when Minako almost pulled a thread loose from her hard work.

The teen frowned at how Minako's knees bounced up and down in her ridiculously pastel orange heels that only she managed to pull off.

"Hey," Usagi murmured comfortingly, "You can tell me."

Minako glanced at Usagi's concerned eyes, biting her lip before admitting out loud, "I _really_ like Motoki, Usagi-chan. I just want you guys to get along."

For a moment, Usagi watched Minako and turned the explanation around in her mind and realized how plausible it was that Minako would worry that her best friend wouldn't like her perfect boyfriend. She smiled in amusement when she followed Minako's eyes gazing at a sandy-haired blonde with endearing hazel eyes. Usagi's eyes slid back to Minako and sighed, knowing that her resentful thoughts from class wouldn't be right to pin against Minako's _'perfect boyfriend'._

He probably was perfect after all.

Usagi reached over Minako and unlocked the driver's door, pushing the latch and door open before sliding back and pushing Minako's shoulder to shake her from her daze while she stepped out through her own side and bent back down to wink at her friend, "C'mon Mina-chan, let's go."

Minako glanced at Usagi from the corner of her eye in confusion, before getting out of the car at her reassuring smile and teasing look. When both girls stood outside of their car in front of the café they slammed the doors shut and walked up to the double doors where Minako was immediately greeted by Motoki.

Usagi eyed Motoki critically but without judgment, seeing how gently he hugged Minako to his chest and how he smiled boyishly at Minako's affectionate peck on the cheek. There was a beaming smile on Minako's face that she had never seen before. It was like she had a smile specifically reserved for him. And she forced herself to believe it.

The guy was everything Minako said he was.

She could tell he was romantic because the reddening blush growing on Minako's face told her so—especially since it was always present after every time they were together. Obviously he was gentle and caring with the way he held her so Usagi really didn't feel the need to go on because she felt there was already enough evidence.

She took a deep breath before pasting a small smile on her face.

And she didn't know whether to be amused or sick at the remembrance of _Motoki's_ less than impressive display back at the club where he had passed out from a measly two beers…those vultures had probably spiked them with something stronger…

She wasn't sick because she didn't like Motoki—quite the opposite really, because she already felt like she was going to get along with him just great…

What bothered her was that she already knew Minako's _'perfect boyfriend'_ and she already knew who Minako's perfect boyfriend's _best_ _friend_ was. And Usagi decided that upon noticing the slightly less eye impeding lighting of the café, basking over the guy from the club's tanned visage and mischievous blue eyes that the impression she thought he hadn't left…he actually had. She also decided that he most certainly _was_ the…_'possible enemy'…_ of course, she should probably scratch out the '_possible'_ part and just leave it at plain _'enemy'_.

The rugged leather jacket, indigo button-up and tousled wind-blown hair suggested it. And damn that unbearable smug smirk on his face where he was standing in front of a table for four meant to be reserved for them. Usagi suddenly felt as though that familiar rain cloud from high school decided to follow her back.

Or even worse—those blasted curveballs. She swallowed, hoping that he wasn't going to get anymore involved than he had to. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her annoyance though, Usagi coolly regarded him with a raised brow, before dismissing him by turning to Motoki.

Minako pulled back from Motoki's embrace and then tugged his hand towards Usagi where she smiled encouragingly at him upon noticing the nervous twitch of his jaw at seeing Usagi's less than happy reaction towards Mamoru. Motoki inwardly cursed, not knowing how Mamoru could've possibly met his girlfriend's best friend—and he was almost scared to find out because it might not bode well for him if Mamoru had ruined any chance of a good impression on this girl.

But then again…she didn't look like she needed convincing.

Motoki smiled kindly, when he saw Usagi's less frosty greeting of him. In fact, it almost seemed like she was the sun with the way she smiled so warmly at him when moments before she had flicked Mamoru off like he was average. Motoki reached out a hand for a handshake and bowed a small bow in tradition, thinking they would be great friends.

It sort of puzzled him though how there seemed to be recognition of him in her smile and her returning bow along with the way she so blandly acknowledged Mamoru.

Minako's voice flitted through the threesome as they stood, "Motoki-kun, this is my best friend Usagi-chan. Usagi-chan this is my boyfriend, Motoki-kun."

"It's nice to meet you Usagi-san."

"Usagi is just fine," Usagi corrected him, gripping his hand in hers, "Mina-chan says you go to Tokyo University, but I've never seen you around before."

Motoki rubbed the back of his neck in habit once Usagi released it, "My friend Mamoru and I just transferred. We were on the waiting list."

"Motoki-kun is going to be a doctor, you remember right, Usagi-chan?" Minako asked, wanting to ease the small talk.

"Hn."

Usagi remembered all too well. Hiow could she possibly forget with Minako drilling details into her mind constantly?

"Here," Motoki said, hoping to get away from the neutrality by gesturing towards the dreaded enemy that Usagi now knew to be named '_Mamoru_', "Let's go sit down."

Usagi turned back to the place where she knew _Mamoru_ stood and had to fight down the urge to glare at the idiot as he waved at them smoothly and instead, she focused on talking with Minako and Motoki, learning more about the blonde doctor-to-be with growing admiration until Motoki had her laughing at a confession he made with Minako smiling in relief.

"For a second, I thought you didn't like me earlier."

Usagi laughed, "I know, I saw the way you got paler. I'm not some bitch you know, you don't have to look so nervous, Motoki…"

"Yo, Motoki!" Mamoru interrupted—and to Usagi's annoyance—charmed Minako with a friendly wink and smile.

"Usagi, Mina-chan, this is Chiba Mamoru. My best friend," Usagi couldn't help being nasty as she wondered at the pride in Motoki's voice upon introducing Mamoru to them.

Minako smiled, "Hello, Mamoru."

Mamoru chuckled quietly in that deep voice of his, "Nice to meet you, Minako."

Usagi was overly aghast even though her outward appearance was calm as Mamoru stopped before Minako with a predator-like grace and even went so far as to completely bypass Motoki's warning glare—that Usagi agreed and approved of—and place an old-fashioned kiss on Minako's hand—who was his _best friend's girlfriend—_and Usagi was even _more_ appalled at Minako's flattered disposition.

Motoki wasn't jealous, but he _was _annoyed at how quickly Minako took a shine towards his best friend just like all the others before her. But he was comforted that her other hand still remained holding his tightly while Mamoru was introduced.

Minako giggled lightly, "I guess chivalry isn't dead after all."

Usagi nearly felt the need to retch at Minako's giggle, not because Minako was giggling at all, but because of the _cause_ of her giggling which already was beginning to make her temper rise, and Usagi counted the seconds she needed to distract herself.

"Maybe not, but _chivalry_ is asking for it," Usagi muttered dryly rolling her eyes, pointedly enunciating her words when she noticed the lingering stare Mamoru was easily hiding from the other oblivious blondes and Motoki's developing scowl disappeared into a grin at Usagi's outward agreement with his inner thoughts.

The grin died down to an amused smile when he heard Usagi whisper to him conspiratorially, her left hand posed at the right side of her face as she leaned towards him away from Mamoru, "I don't like him."

Mamoru turned his eyes from Minako's cheerful inquiries to Usagi's sarcastic comments she was trading with Motoki, ignoring the intended sting of her veiled insults as he gleefully pointed out to her, "Oh look, it's the man-hater from the club I told you about, Motoki."

Although slightly confused, Minako had to agree; Usagi _could_ be a man-hater to some degree on occasion. But how did they already know each other?

Motoki frowned as Mamoru's comment sunk in and he tried to remember meeting Usagi as Mamoru's comment suggested she was the dirty bartender from the club that tried to place the moves on him.

The frown deepened when he found that he couldn't remember.

"You were drunk, Motoki," Usagi supplied abruptly and Motoki let an enlightened and embarrassed smile come to his face, chuckling sheepishly at having been caught.

Minako pursed her lips, realizing now why Motoki felt sick that day she brought him something to help his headaches, but not at all bothered that he was drunk since he had been with Mamoru. But if Usagi knew she was reassured by that, then her friend would have had her head judging by the hostile vibes she was giving off and the deadly stare…

"But Mamoru," Motoki smiled uncertainly, clueless as he continued, "you said the bartender tried to flirt with you and that you turned her down…so how come Usagi glared at you earlier when they got here…?"

"He said _what_?"

Minako flinched, hearing the threatening tone in Usagi's voice and shot forward to cover Motoki's mouth with her hand but found that she was stuck, as Mamoru still held her left hand from earlier and Motoki held her other one. Minako hurried to signal to Motoki to shut up with her eyes since her voice would attract Usagi's attention but to no avail.

"Yeah…Mamoru said that while he was at the bar, the bartender kept talking to him and wouldn't let him leave. Stuff like that."

"The answer to your question, Motoki, is that Usagi here is still mad at me for rejecting her," Mamoru saw Usagi's delicate jaw lock stubbornly when she saw him not even deny Motoki's words and instead shrug carelessly with a reckless wink, "Guess you couldn't stay away, huh?"

Truth be told, he wasn't that pleased to see her, but figured she would be entertainment enough for him while Motoki and Minako made goo-goo eyes at each other throughout the lunch.

And he was right because to his delight Mamoru could see he was already getting underneath her skin but he was confused when her features suddenly relaxed and the fist he had been watching tighten slowly loosened.

Usagi crossed her arms bluntly, "You're not just a lying flirt. You really _are_ an asshole."

Minako gasped, "Usagi-chan! Be nice!"

But Usagi simply ignored Minako with an easy shake of her head and Motoki struggled to keep Mamoru from hearing him snicker at the caught-off guard look on his face that he efficiently schooled into expressionless.

"I don't have to be nice to this idiot, Mina-chan. The guy's a complete class-A jackass!" she retorted seethingly, and Motoki groaned.

"Well, if I'm a jackass, then I guess you really _are _a bitch. But I guess I can't really call you that, because I'm sure it's just you getting pissed off because of…_that time of month,_" Mamoru whispered mockingly, "Or is it because you want me?"

Horrified at the sudden change of attitude, Minako felt anger towards Mamoru and the insult directed at Usagi, "Don't _call_ her that!"

And she was even more insulted when she was simply ignored.

Unfazed that he wanted to start a fight with her, Usagi pretended to glance at her nails, inspecting how clean they were even though she was especially ticked off with his _absurd_ accusation, "Why would I want a walking STD? You're just AIDS waiting to happen."

"You're just a virgin that's jealous because you've never been fucked."

"_Mamoru,"_ Motoki hissed at the crude language.

"Whatever, a quickie in a bathroom stall isn't exactly ideally picturesque, wouldn't you say?"

"I only met you three days ago and have actually known you for a few minutes…and you're already fantasizing about a rendezvous with me? Maybe you should get yourself some action...I'm not sure whether to be flattered, or creeped out by the stalker in you."

"You're calling _me_ stalker when you actually remember when we met? Hell, even I don't remember. And obviously you're an indecisive idiot, because I'd have to be heavily medicated to even _dream_ about you."

"I guess that means you dream about me every night."

"You only wish."

The stream of insults were incredible to the feisty pair's spectators watching them hurl insult after insult towards each other without missing a beat and looking and _sounding_ like the insults didn't even bother them at all! Was there really such thing as someone who didn't care…?

Mamoru pretended to gasp in shock at the idea, "That I could see _you_ naked? Like there's anything impressive under your clothes. There are plenty of other girls way better than you. Probably more woman, too."

He was lying and he knew it. He could already imagine the tight stomach and slender figure under those clothes—but he refused to acknowledge the lie. He was only trying to piss her off after all.

"The only reason anyone would _ever_ go _near_ you is because you pay them off with stupid money and pathetic diamond rings," Usagi snapped, her eyes flashing menace and the string holding her temper together fraying at the ends at a frighteningly rapid pace.

And for some reason that Mamoru couldn't find, that one actually hit a bit too close to home for his liking.

It might have actually hurt too, if he would only acknowledge it.

"And if I remember correctly, my face is up here pervert," Usagi pointed, when Mamoru's attention wavered a bit lower than he was allowed, "I thought I told you to go get laid and for the record, you'd never be able to keep up with me anyway."

"_Usagi!"_ Minako choked at the insinuation, her vocabulary quickly becoming limited.

Motoki and Minako were lost as they watched their best friends fling insults and sexual innuendos at each other at full force without heeding their shock or uncomfortable feelings, completely forgetting the support they were supposed to supply for the two of them in introducing each other.

Minako should've known that this would backfire on her and Motoki shook his head helplessly, knowing that he had tried to warn Minako, but she had insisted they would be '_perfect'_ together.

What a disgrace '_perfect'_ turned out to be.

"Who do you think will break first, Mina-chan?"

Minako glanced at Motoki firmly, "Mamoru will."

His eyes widened, "Really? I've never seen Mamoru break before."

Motoki watched as his girlfriend smirked knowingly, "Trust me, Motoki-kun, Usagi-chan would never lose. Just sit back and enjoy the show."

Though Motoki was slightly disturbed at how comfortable Minako now felt with the situation he nevertheless, followed willingly and settled on a chair with Minako sitting on his lap, completely relaxed despite her former qualms.

Offended by the slight and now pissed off, Mamoru glared violently at her and was only angered further when Usagi returned it with equal ferocity instead of shying and flinching back in reflexive fear. He had to compliment the witch for her control.

"Are you calling me _inexperienced?!_"

"No, I'm calling you _inadequate!_"

"You know what? Fuck you!"

"You'd like that wouldn't you."

He felt like the back of his skull was throbbing with an oncoming headache and he felt like _banging_ his head against the table at the unyielding feminist of a hot girl in front of him—_and_ he was frustrated with her for leaving him nearly speechless that he resorted to cussing.

_Cussing!_

He was better than that! He didn't need curses to help him get a point across. He only had to use cusses when it came to the dim-witted for crying out loud!

What Usagi and Mamoru didn't notice was that they were almost nose to nose, close enough to be mistaken for leaning in for a loving kiss during the course of their heated argument that the café staff eagerly flocked to them to watch and listen to them, taking their inattentiveness to their advantage.

"Yeah right, you're more mannish than womanly and I don't swing that way."

Usagi blinked innocently, "Really, then I guess that means you're bi."

"What?!" Mamoru sputtered in her presence for the second time, "I am_ not BISEXUAL_!"

Minako and Motoki couldn't help sniggering in the background as some of the few customers in the café—business was slow that day since many were at work or in school at twelve-fifteen—turned to stare and gape at Mamoru while he stood stiffly in humiliation upon feeling the drilling holes in his back where people's gazes were.

Motoki burst out laughing when he felt the burning in his sides become too much of a hassle for him at seeing some lustful and hungry looks being shot at Mamoru from some guys and was amused further upon noticing they went to their campus. Soon, Minako joined Motoki in his laughter when her face began changing color at trying to hold it all in out of mercy. But mercy wasn't enough to keep her from laughing at Mamoru's expense.

Usagi fared much better and the only hint of her amusement showing was the way her cerulean eyes danced under the lights tauntingly as a hint of a smile pulled at the side of her mouth up until she looked as though she were innocently biting the inside of her cheek, "Huh…I thought you were."

Mamoru growled, "Well, you're _wrong_. I'm straight, okay? _Straight._"

"Of course you are," Usagi sighed breezily, grating at Mamoru's nerves at how she said it as though to placate and comfort him that it was okay when he really wasn't even gay at all, "There's no need to be so defensive when it's not true, Chiba. So sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable?

_Uncomfortable?!_

That's all she could say?!

What the _fuck!_

She made him _more_ than just uncomfortable—she made him pissed off to the extreme!

God, he could kill her for that mocking smile. He could kill her for being so different than all the rest, for making him actually remember her and not forget her when he couldn't even remember the name of the girl he slept with a week ago! He watched her turn to walk around him.

"Slut."

"You're mistaken; look at one of your flings and you'll see your definition for '_slut'_."

"Gold-digger."

"I want nothing to do with you."

Proceeding to throw single-worded insults, Mamoru grew annoyed when each time he threw a remark it was simply met by the cold shoulder or a casual, nonchalant shrug without the least trace of a reaction that he was aiming and hoping for.

Scoffing in exasperation, he muttered darkly, "Idiot."

That one got her.

She refused to be known to him as some bimbo that could be pushed around and stomped all over just because he had rock-hard abs—not that she noticed—and a damn penis! It didn't work that way, damn it. She wasn't going to be another one of those girls he could easily triumph over.

And so it was inevitable when Usagi whirled in outrage.

"Then you're a dumb-ass!"

"Whore."

"Says the man who fucks anything with boobs and a heartbeat!"

"Prude."

Soon the single-worded sentences became expressed in more vicious tones as the voices of their owners raised louder and louder in pitch and furiousness.

"Airhead!"

"Moron!"

"Klutz!"

"Cheater!"

It almost made Minako and Motoki dizzy, watching their friends slowly close the space between them with every reply.

"_Hag."_

"_Brat."_

"_Bitch!"_

"_Bastard!"_

At a loss and completely run out of name-calling, Mamoru and Usagi simply stared each other down as their noses nearly brushed against each other with flared nostrils to accommodate their harsh and exasperated breathing that they shared the same breath and body heat.

Deciding to intervene before the café suddenly turned into a murder scene, Motoki called out to Mamoru, telling him to sit back down and lay off the extra coffee that seemed to be making him high-strung…

Or was it the delicious blonde in front of him doing that?

"I am going to _kill_ you," Mamoru muttered murderously towards Usagi before turning around to go sit.

Usagi glared but waved a dismissive hand, her back facing him as she turned to walk away, eyes that were straight following, tracing over the so-called _mannish_ curves she had as she gritted out, "I'm going to order some coffee, want anything?"

_Moral support, moral support, moral support. _

That's what she was there for, she chanted to herself.

Ugh, civility could go to hell!

Mamoru stubbornly gnashed his teeth at her nonchalant reply, and he could feel his knuckles crack at how tight his hand was fisted, his glare darkening his cobalt eyes to an ominous black as he proudly ignored the bait to uphold what dignity he had left and sat down at the table with Minako and Motoki quickly wiping away the traces of mirth on their faces.

Motoki smiled at Usagi, "Two black coffees would be nice, Usagi."

"Sure thing, Motoki."

Oh, he hated her. He hated her all right, with her stupid way of attracting even more eyes, gracefully turning around and sauntering towards the counter with that _fucking_ enticing sway of hips, hair and leg.

_Hate her, hate her, hate her, hate her, hate—_

Son of a _bitch!_

He hated that she got along perfectly with Motoki.

"I'll come with you, Usagi-chan," Minako exclaimed as she hopped off Motoki's lap to catch up to Usagi, remembering their bet that she would be the one to pay since Usagi had won and deviously having Motoki pay as he lost the bet on who would break first. Minako grinned, inwardly making the victory sign for a still maintained paycheck untouched.

"Well?" Motoki prodded as the two females of their entourage headed to the counter.

"I hate her," came the vehement declaration.

Motoki laughed at the sulky air around his normally indomitable friend, knowing that he was referring to Usagi and not his girlfriend. He would've defended Usagi since she seemed like a generally good person, but knew that Mamoru wouldn't be seeing reason and that he didn't mean it anyway, "I'm sure you wouldn't if she gave you a chance to kiss her."

"Shut up, Motoki. She's a freaking _hag. _She's not attractive, okay? Who the hell would want her?!"

Motoki gave Mamoru a dry stare as he peered around the Crown and noticed the numerous looks, glances and stares Usagi was attracting from the few customers and the male staff members before he turned back to Mamoru who glared at him, warning him not to say anything and that the question had been rhetorical.

But still, Motoki couldn't help it.

"You only hate her because she seems to hate you."

"_Seems_? Motoki, she hates me, _period._"

Motoki raised incredulous brows, "What, are you saying that _bothers_ you?"

"No! I don't care what she thinks."

The reply came a bit too fast to be believable.

"Uh huh, right."

And for lack of a simple comeback, Mamoru merely slouched in his seat with a thunderous expression clouding his generous features. It bothered him how _Usagi_ had managed to one-up him and gain the upper hand by having the last word, and he could only take satisfaction in knowing that she was just as ruffled by him as he was by her…Except that it bothered him even more that she even managed to get under his skin so annoyingly easy the way she did.

_Ugh!_

She was just a _girl_, for God's sake…!

He should've ditched lunch and just taken his chances with that clingy redhead receptionist he met up with again on the way to the club. What was her name again? Berry? Terry? Sheryl…? No, no—the first one sounded closer. It was…_Beryl_…right?

Yeah, that was her name.

She was some voluptuous American on exchange…or so she said.

Mamoru snorted to himself, but had to admit that the whore—because no virgin quite knew how to strut and sashay like _that—_had to be given her props for learning to lie like that—smooth and unflinchingly. She had that devious poker-face to her advantage, covering her truly venomous nature…her only giveaway was her damn cleavage.

And then Mamoru cringed, remembering that the girl had been creepy with her aggressiveness…it wasn't very pleasurable having her fake and cheaply manicured nails scratch at the nape of his neck like that. He shuddered at how she nearly left scratches. God, wild was one thing he liked, but fucking _demented_?! He meant what he said at that first meeting with Usagi as the mysterious barista.

Sadism was _so_ not cool.

Ugh…it was disgusting.

It wasn't sensual at all, not even _close_ to seduction and the farthest thing from a turn-on he could possibly name, because he may have been an immorally sexually driven person, but even _he_ had his standards and he wasn't about to drop them for some freaking He-man of a woman…

_Blech_.

Mamoru shook the thoughts away.

He figured now would be a good time to change the subject and let Motoki waste his advice on him…

Usagi's eyes were livid with lightning though her voice maintained the same calm and neutral voice, causing Minako to squirm at the fumbling cashier who's panicking only served to annoy her friend further and she figured she would let the trainee keep the change—you know, just as some sort of…what was the word?

Atonement?

He was going to need it, seeing as how Usagi was in her dangerous mode—not a very good combination with her good looks and a high school student's rampant hormones…and his more than obvious drooling.

"Usagi-chan…?" Minako reached a tentative hand out.

"_What_?"

Minako retrieved her tentative hand; curling it into her pocket at the arctic bark depicting Usagi's less than talkative mood…it wouldn't be good to provoke her. Besides, Usagi knew that Minako understood her enough to shut up—and now would be one of those good times to do so.

The nerve of that…that _pathetic_ excuse of a _man_!

Usagi glowered, who did he think he was, smirking at her all knowingly and shit like that? As if he already knew she hated his guts, his ego, his smile, his eyes, his…his _everything_! 

He was infuriating goddamn it! And _fuck_! Were the Gods all against her?! Were they _trying_ to force her hand towards suicide…?

Griping still as she grabbed the offered coffees from the trembling hands of the trainee cashier, Usagi dismissed the fact that Minako seemed to be paying with money that most likely belonged to Motoki—and she better not think that she didn't know they placed a stupid bet on who would break first between her and Mamoru.

Because as much as she hated to admit it, Minako was wrong about who won.

She was at a stalemate with the raven-haired male.

Hitting hard where his emotions were wouldn't work because the jackass didn't _have_ feelings other than lust, rage and pride. And physical fighting was out of the question since he was a guy and guys couldn't hit girls—it simply wasn't allowed, although she seriously wondered whether he had enough honor to even follow _that_ rule…

She wouldn't mind seeing a red mark on his ugly face where her hand hit him or better yet, a black eye—a nice purple-blue one would do his complexion good. Or seeing him doubled over in pain and unable to…do a _good_ performance on one of his nightly trysts. God, the thought was almost enough to make her laugh. But sadly, no, physical was out of the question—the jerk would just twist it into some sexual thing, no doubt.

And verbally?

Damn him for being her equal…but Usagi reassured herself that that was just a fluke—she wasn't herself today. She was tired and hungry and…and he was just crossing dangerous territory by trying to make her a bitch when she was supposed to be the good, caring and supportive best friend…

And so far, she was doing poorly.

But Usagi doubted Mamoru was doing a good job at that right now either—she knew because in her peripheral vision she saw him sulking and Motoki poking fun at him…not that she cared of course.

Sighing, Usagi took a sip from the latté Minako paid for her and braced herself for the rest of the day.

It was going to be a long one with that chauvinistic pig as company since their friends would be busy.

If she got lucky though, Mamoru might just get food poisoning and die…

…Was that asking for too much?

Usagi shook her head, squashing the voice of her conscience this time.

Nah, the dunce could handle it.

Karma's been itching for a chance to get some action anyways.

And if Karma wasn't up for the mood she certainly wouldn't mind playing substitute for the time being.

Minako almost pitied Mamoru.

If she weren't busy snogging Motoki, that is.

Usagi sighed, swallowing the warmth of her latté while stirring the flavoring to her desire.

Later, she would reflect and wonder just what the hell she'd been thinking ever coming at all—best friend duties be damned.

* * *

_TA-DA_

Okay guys, there's Chapter Six for you.

This chapter is like a starting point for Mamoru and Usagi's relationship. As you can see, throughout the fighting you can already see the chemistry burning—at least I hope so—Can you tell?

But yeah, it's not going to happen right away, because I think things like that should take time but I'll try not to drag it out unnecessarily.

So there, right now they 'hate' each other.

But that's just what they think—Minako and Motoki already know better.

We'll just have to wait and see what they decide to do about it though. Hope it was enjoyable.

What'd you think? Hit me and let me know.

ser3ne eternity.

_aka;;_**azuresass22.**

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	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Almost Had You

* * *

Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey guys!! I'm baaaaack, lol did you miss me? Haha, j/k. Anyways, I'm sorry for the long delay—writer's block, you know how it is—blasted thing lol.

Oh, and I'm sorry I can't remember who asked me this question—but yes, the redhead in the Chapter 5 was Beryl, although I don't plan on making her a very large part of this story...but who knows? I don't think I'll be using her as a threat to Mamoru and Usagi's future relationship though. Anyways, scroll on!

* * *

_"Can you hear it?"_

_"Hear what?"_

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

* * *

_TA-DA_

"_I wonder if that chick spiked my coffee, I mean she had to...otherwise I wouldn't be freaking fantasizing_—_wait_ _no_, _not fantasizing_—_be curious about her all the time. Crap, I think I'm high."_

_-Chiba Mamoru_

Chapter 7  
_initiative_

It was clear that the meeting had been _anything_ but smooth.

The way the argument had been fuelled went something along like this—Usagi's patience had been tested thin to the furthest it would go. She could not _stand_ seeing Minako draped all over Motoki like that—in _public,_ for God's sake!—and she could not _stand_ hearing the encouraging sounds her best friend made—sure she could listen about it later but that's because tuning it out when you're really there when it happens, _actually_ served to be difficult. Not to mention, she was beginning to hate the suggestive looks she was getting—it was nothing new, not at all.

But it was pissing her off.

And God forbid, she couldn't forget the sly winks Mamoru passed onto some ladies and he was only a guy after all—she _swore_ he had been checking her out. The man—no, _boy_—couldn't focus on one girl for a _second!_

It was fucking frustrating!

She initially came for the food—and Minako, of course—but why the hell couldn't she leave now?

Usagi thought she had come as a supporter, not a _spectator!_ If she wanted to see some passionate second base hook-ups she could've grabbed a ticket to the movies. God...she wasn't even _hungry_ anymore...and hadn't she just come from a session with _Mizuki-sensei_? She _should_ be hungry. Yet here she was, sitting in a table for four, _surrounded_ by people completely caught up in themselves and..._flesh _of yummy opposite sex, and she was valiantly trying to sum up an apetite that would make her stop picking at her food.

Usagi actually felt _weird_ being there.

So what if Mamoru kept putting the moves on the waitresses—at least he was doing something that made him look suave and cool, while she probably looked...awkward...at least more awkward than she was used to portraying herself as.

She was a dancer! Dancers aren't supposed to be..._awkward._

Being awkward...was a disease. It was _bad_—

"What's up your ass, dipshit?"

Cobalt eyes mixed with amusement under a fringe of raven.

Cerulean eyes narrowed warningly as Usagi tossed her hair back, having undone her ponytail a long time ago when the creepy sensation of some zealous preteen watching her became too much and her hair served as a bit of a cover...the kid was probably just staring at the luminescent shade her hair was. Silver was such a rare hair color that Usagi had inherited from her mother. All her looks came from her mother, actually...and her personality was a balanced mix of her mother and father while her little brother resembled their father down to the last freckle on his cheeks...

All thoughts aside of her family though Mamoru remained unaffected, savoring the pastry he had just taken a bite from with his fork. He licked the icing off the edges of his mouth tauntingly—what he would be taunting her about she didn't know, and how licking his lips was supposed to effect her made her laugh. Like she'd even _think_ of being turned on. The jerk took another, long, _slow_ bite, white cream a contrast against tanned skin and dark hair, strong jaw moving..._rotating_.

The fucktard.

Usagi gritted her teeth, "The same thing that's been making your eye twitch for the last hour."

"It's called 'winking' smart one."

Was that a tone of offense seeping into that cool tone near the end of his sentence?

Of course it was. What else could it be?

"It's blinking with one eye, is what it is," she rolled her eyes.

And then Mamoru decided that she was interesting when she was mad. Her eyes blazed a molten blue fire and glimmering ivory strands fell strategically to frame her eyes and the coal darkness of her eyelashes and that light tanned complexion was divine under the quality lighting. And her mouth pursed in this irresistible pout—full and rosy. If only she didn't open her mouth so much to rag on him—she'd be so much more delectible that he'd actually go for her.

Perhaps whatever contact they had was meant to be raw fights and meaningless flirting was the furthest they would ever get.

"Are you always this pleasant, or is today just special?"

"I think it's probably more the company's fault rather than the day—love the sarcasm by the way. It's a nice touch."

And of course, there was something in the twinkle of her eye that set Mamoru off the wrong way, and it wouldn't take long before they had another mini fight among many during the lunch—Minako and Motoki had already resigned themselves to simply coughing to interrupt, and the two of them being as highstrung as they were when arguing, would immediately stand to attention at even the slightest pin drop.

"Do you have to find a way to insult me at every turn, Tsukino?"

Usagi grinned openly, "Reflex."

A hand flexed under the table, obviously belonging to Mamoru.

"Hurt your feelings, Chiba?"

Mamoru's flexed hand became apparently clenched, "To hurt my feelings I'd have to care what you think."

"Of course either way, that'd be impossible."

"Why's that?"

"You don't exactly have feelings other than pride, anger and lust as far as I can tell..."

She wasn't allowed to assume like that. That was being a bitch.

And he said so.

"Bitch."

And of course...when you brought swearing into the argument, of course some people would be deeply offended and Usagi didn't particularly enjoy being called a female dog.

And the argument just took off from there, firecrackers that they were. It just didn't take much.

_--_

"_You're insufferable!"_

"What the hell is your problem, Mamoru?!" Motoki raved.

"Nothing…what's yours?"

"Do you have any idea what you just did?"

"Uhh…I asked you a rhetorical question just now?"

Motoki scowled half-hysterical and infuriated with the amusement in Mamoru's eyes at seeing it, shoving Mamoru against the wall, "Would you stop being an asshole?!"

_A splash of liquid making contact with dry clothes and skin was heard as a humorous splat of delicious dessert could be heard following moments later.  
_  
Mamoru remained unaffected by Motoki's less than wonderful show of patience and pried his friend's harried fingers from his sullied shirt, before muttering, "Don't look at me like that, Motoki. She threw fucking coffee at my face!"

"It was cold!" Motoki threw back at him, his hands burying themselves in his dirty blonde locks to signify his frustration.

"That's not the point!" Mamoru snapped.

"Oh my freaking, God! You deserved it, you idiot!"

"Fuck off!" Mamoru growled, stalking off into his room, wrenching his door open and—

_Motoki cringed at Mamoru's silent and solemn face. His eyes dark with outrage and a splatter of now cold, ugly brown coffee and crumbs of what were once tasteful pastries strewn haphazardly all over his favorite white shirt and leather jacket, he sat in his seat half-shocked by Usagi's outburst. The blonde swallowed dryly, seeing sparks flying from his friend's sinister eyes as he stared Usagi down only for her to glower defiantly at him, the empty cold coffee cup still clutched easily in her right hand and her left hand covered in vanilla icing._

Minako winced at the slam from Usagi's door.

It was uncalled for, throwing coffee and cake at Mamoru like Usagi had done but it was also _highly_ inappropriate how Mamoru responded. And it was for this reason, that Minako knew better than to go and knock on Usagi's door to ask her if she wanted to _'talk about it'._

_Slowly, Mamoru reached out with his right hand and swiped the icing on his cheek off with a menacing aura, standing to tower over Usagi in anticipation. Minako watched in shocked silence as Mamoru unhurriedly wiped the fair amount of icing off his face to collect a generous amount and then gradually lean forward to wipe his hand down the bare expanse of skin of Usagi's collarbone down to the modest cleavage of her jersey shirt's v-neck. _

To ask Usagi to do something like opening up to her and venting to her with her temper in the state that it was in would be suicide. It was clear that her best friend wasn't in the mood to speak and _wouldn't _speak until she saw fit...Minako would most likely be hearing guitar rifts for the rest of the nights or wild thumping that signified Usagi taking her frustration out on her wall...or she might just be ripping up scrap paper.

_Seething, Usagi gritted her teeth at Mamoru as he lingered longer than what was deemed appropriate and she very nearly bit her tongue off when he suggestively licked the icing remains off his fingers._

Usagi was strangely unreasonable at the randomest moments...why would she ever vent on paper...?

What did the paper ever do to her?

Wouldn't writing about it be healthier...?

Minako changed her mind—it'd be best if Usagi didn't have anything tangible to remind her of this.

"_You're annoying."_

Minako heard a harsh strum and a muffled curse and she shook her head, somehow not surprised that Usagi didn't react so well upon meeting Mamoru.

Even she had to admit...he could be a bit of a jackass.

Not that she'd ever say it out loud though.

--

"So..."

It had been at least a good three and a half weeks since the huge blow up meeting for lunch and for the first few days after the incident of their explosive argument, Mamoru and Usagi had been the campus' main number one source of entertainment with their vicious spats. They bit each other's head off, flirted and didn't respond, teased and were hit, were hurt, and were hated. But, there was a but. It was barely noticeable and hard to see unless you looked for it, but it was clear that there was more than just a bitter rivalry between the two and though the words they hurled at each other didn't sound very pleasant, the tone with which they were delivered gradually began to lose their bite.

Slowly..._s__lowly_, the routine banter—angry and negative, or casual and borderline friendly—became more.

_Evolved._

And patterns began to form.

The two roommates sat adjacent from each other in the homey television space of their dorm, kneeling on the floor over the coffee table with their leather couches at their back. Usagi sat up straight, occasionally brushing her hair back from her eyes as she drew Minako's profile in the light with used and trusted charcoal. She rolled up her sleeves, ignoring the stained fingerprints taking residence on her crimson shirt, matching the bow in her friend's hair.

"So what, Minako?"

The blonde in question smiled mischievously—it was a smile Usagi had yet to get used to seeing, despite it becoming more frequent in appearance since dating Motoki. She supposed she didn't mind. It really did make Minako look rather ravishing, not being so shy and all. Come to think of it, Minako had slowly been regaining her personality from childhood—the one that had made Usagi and her so adventurous together.

It made Usagi all the more aware of how things had changed over the years.

Still though, that smile meant nothing but trouble. Usagi still remembered how nosy Minako had been when they were children—always playing matchmaker at their young age on their older acquaintances before she became smitten with the opposite sex herself. It was rather amusing to watch.

"Usa-chan," Minako called to her.

She had been surprisingly adept at finding people's supposed soul mates.

Not that Usagi cared.

It wasn't like she'd never tried it on her...because she did. Personally though, Usagi had to admit that she'd been quite attracted to a few of the people Minako had set her up with. Of course, it never lasted long—it was just an attraction.

"Usa-chan," the endearment was said with a little more force this time, and Usagi forced herself to look up from her portfolio, her hand pausing in sketching the slight tilt to Minako's chin.

"What is it, Mina-chan?" she resigned herself to humouring her friend, for fear of not being able to finish her task lest Minako remained adamant at pestering her. And just this once, Usagi sympathized with Chiba, knowing that it had been the raven-haired man's best friend that had taught her how to get things out of her.

It was a feat that had made Minako smile triumphantly and Usagi pale at how loose her tongue had wagged information to her best friend that she hadn't wanted her to know the first time it happened. Of course, the information just had to do with the ever vigilant Chiba Mamoru.

"About Mamoru-san," the corner of Usagi's lips twitched at the honorific and even more so at the first name usage, "how is he?"

Usagi raised a brow evasively, "I wouldn't know...maybe you should ask him yourself."

Minako pouted and Usagi had to smile.

"Come on Usa-chan, you know what I mean by that... You've been much more animated since meeting Mamoru-san."

"Maybe so, but it hasn't been 'animated' in the good way, Mina-chan."

"You're still being animated though," Minako pointed out, "no one's been able to get under your skin like he has for a while."

At this, Usagi placed her charcoal down on the table completely.

She sighed, "Just tell me what you want, Minako."

"Tell me about him. You've been coming back to the dorm for the last few weeks and you seem more and more agitated as the days go by...while on other days you seem perfectly content."

"What's there to know about that idiot, Chiba? I don't understand what you find so fascinating about him."

The reply all but oozed sarcasm, and the response was not well received as Usagi was introduced to one of Minako's sterner stares.

She relented.

Usagi's crystalline eyes gave a deadpanned stare, "He's a jackass."

Minako didn't say she had to say nice things about him, after all.

"Be serious."

"I am being serious. The guy is a complete and utter dickhead, Minako. You're just nice because he's your boyfriend's best friend."

Minako sputtered, "That's not why I'm nice to him!"

"Then why do you care what my opinion of him is? You've always left me to think things my way before. What makes Chiba such a special case?"

There was a thoughtful pause between the two blondes and Minako hesitantly avoided Usagi's probing stare. Usagi had always had a way of knowing what she was thinking or feeling—all she had to do was look her in the eye for a few moments and her mind would be as good as naked. It was still unnerving how she still managed to do it even long past childhood had occurred.

Minako could tell that Usagi wasn't happy with her thoughts. Her eyes wavered with reluctance before becoming an opaque shield of cerulean silver and her mouth twitched at the corner, her jaw tightening unnoticeably.

She sighed.

"Usagi-chan, Mamoru isn't as bad as you think. There's more to him than just a big flirt."

What happened to Mamoru-san, Usagi asked herself sarcastically but didn't voice the thought opting to instead demand Minako to explain while rolling her eyes sceptically.

"He may be...active," Usagi smirked in amusement at the way Minako fidgeted at the obvious meaning, "but he really does think more than just about womanizing. He's actually really intelligent, Usagi. How else could he have gotten into Tokyo University?"

Though the reason was sound in its simplicity, it wasn't enough to convince her friend and Minako could see that.

"So he's a closet intellectual, what else?"

Frankly, Usagi didn't care whether he was smart or not. Intelligence was reflected by the way you acted and the opinions you carried in her opinion. And Chiba Mamoru's opinions weren't very noble nor were they worth much to her. Besides, it's not like she'd ever have a reason for being civil to him.

Right?

"He's a good friend, Usagi-chan. I mean, Motoki-kun's a good guy right? Why would he be friends with someone as pigheaded as you say Mamoru is?"

"Motoki's known Mamoru since they were kids, Minako. Of course he'd defend the guy," Usagi stated, her eyes solemnly guarded at the topic being delved into.

"Well, you have to admit, Usagi. Even if you don't like Mamoru, he must be interesting enough that you remember his name."

Damn, she had her there.

It really wasn't her fault though. It's not like the name was common—who else had a name that meant protector of Earth or something? And with the way girls whispered his name in the halls and giggled about the very mention of it well...it was bound to get stuck in her head _sometime_. Not that she could brag about her name...Sometimes Usagi still questioned why her parents decided to give her a name that meant she was a rabbit. Not to mention, her last name certainly didn't take away from the uniqueness of her name.

Picture this.

_Rabbit_ of the _moon_.

That was basically her in a nutshell. She supposed the moon part made sense, with her extremely light hair and all. But, _rabbit_? Where did they get rabbit? She sighed. But at least it was somewhat sophisticated, right? And she could be sophisticated. The moon was sophisticated...

Mamoru on the other hand—well just imagine.

_Protector_ _of_ _Earth_.

His name made him sound so _noble_ and _brave_ and _justified_.

But was he really...?

She'd always thought of the Earth as nurturing and kind, sturdy and direct.

Mamoru...Mamoru was...

Well, he was direct...he could be kind if he _wanted_ to be. She wasn't sure about nurturing—but from what she'd heard from other girls about the roses he could coax into blooming...she supposed he had some talent for nurturing. Plants die without nurturing... The thought made Usagi laugh, imagining someone as proud of his masculinity as Mamoru growing his own red roses. She supposed he deserved points for how secure he was in his sexuality.

As for sturdy...

She snorted.

Could she really make herself say he was stable?

Usagi pursed her lips, remembering the encounters she shared with the raven-haired freshman.

And she shuddered.

Not really.

"It's hard not to remember the name of someone so damn annoying, Minako. You'd remember a person's name too, if they constantly popped up in front of you."

There was a pause as Minako wondered just exactly how far Mamoru was willing to take his intentions with her friend—and whether or not he even had a decided set of intentions. The way Mamoru annoyed Usagi reminded Minako of how boys always make fun of girls when they're younger when they're unable to fully express the fact that they liked a girl.

It seemed that being verbally stunted about the subject of feelings was something that males were subjected to at an early age.

How amusing.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't jumped his bones yet, Usa," Minako teased, signalling the end of her attempt at a subtle lecture to get her thinking.

Usagi twitched at the implication, placing the charcoal down on her sketchbook once more, "Excuse me?"

"Well, Mamoru is rather hot..." Cornflower eyes twinkled.

Usagi's glare glittered with warning, "If you ever say that to his face, I swear."

"Jealous?"

"Hardly. As if that jerk needs another reason to have his ego promoted."

Minako snorted amusedly at Usagi's muttering.

"You didn't deny the part about jumping his bones."

Minako grinned, this was fun. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she was so promiscuous. Usagi had been wild enough for the both of them growing up; the only difference was that she had learned more focus and patience...though she held no such trait for things like boys.

Usagi waved a blackened hand dismissively, "Please, if I wanted to jump him, I'd have done so already."

Well, Minako certainly hadn't been expecting that admission of truth and Usagi had a wicked smile on her face.

"I—you...what?"

Usagi laughed.

"The guy's been bugging me for a while now. It's like he's constantly breathing down my neck, and I somehow always know when I'll be seeing him...I've got this...sixth sense for him, Mina-chan. It's really annoying."

Minako was aghast as her friend trailed off in thought.

Just what was she getting at?

She wasn't implying..._that_...was she?

"So you'd sleep with him, just to get him off your back?! I thought you didn't even like his flirting!" the freshman nearly went through a heart palpitation at the wanton proposition of her best friend doing such a thing.

"Course not, and I don't like his flirting—I have self-respect. I'm not about to sleep with him!" Usagi exclaimed, "Jeez, I guess Motoki still hasn't taught you about sarcasm yet...or was _Mamoru-san_ supposed to do that?"

Minako flushed heatedly, "Hey, I'm just trying to be civil with the guy. You nearly bit his head off at the café—which by the way, you were supposed to be there as moral support; not fighting petulantly with some guy you supposedly thought of as unworthy."

"I already apologized about that."

"I never said you didn't."

"You're right," Usagi admitted before her eyes narrowed, "but something tells me you're trying to get at something else."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Minako flipped her hair over her shoulder, sniffing regally.

"Minako."

"Usagi."

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not being stupid!"

"What are you hiding then?"

"Well..." Minako paused slyly for dramatic effect before being prompted by Usagi, "I was just thinking that maybe there's something going on between you guys."

Minako ignored her incredulous choking.

"I mean, it would totally explain your mood swings...plus!" Minako smiled, holding her index finger up knowingly, "Toki-kun told me that he hasn't seen Mamoru sweet talking any other girl since he met you."

Usagi recovered at this, albeit she did admit that she was somewhat curious by that small truth before shrugging.

"Yeah right."

"It's true!" Her friend's blue eyes widened to look sickeningly innocent, before wincing, "Okay fine. Toki-kun said he hasn't been doing ...that...as much."

Usagi felt a bitter triumph, pointing out, "It's not like you've never done it, Mina-chan. You don't have to be so shy about saying the word _sex_."

Usagi laughed gaily when Minako's face reddened violently, stuffing her face in a pillow.

And then it occurred to Minako, the things Usagi said to Mamoru in retaliation of their bed habits during their first meeting, and what she had said just moments earlier ultimately causing her to wonder...

"Are you a virgin, Usagi-chan?"

Her friend blinked, "Why would you want to know that?"

"You never told me about it before and...well, I've done it...what about you?"

Usagi vaguely wondered whether it would be wise or not to divulge this sort of information—Minako was after all, prone to setting her up.

Oh, who cared? Usagi scoffed, even if she didn't tell Minako per se, Minako would find out and eventually do something about it. Besides...it's not like she'd say anything right?

"Yeah, I have."

She winced at the shocked squeal.

"When, where? With who? Was he any good?"

"Depends which time you're asking about."

"You've done it more than _once_?" Minako gasped.

"Well, yeah," came the short reply as though it were the most obvious answer there was, as Usagi resumed her coal sketching, attempting to catch the shadows on Minako's face accurately.

"Well...how come you never told me?"

"Just because you were open about your exploits, doesn't mean I am."

"How many times have you done it, Usagi-chan?!"

"A couple."

Minako growled in frustration at the vague answers, "Well, who did you do it with?!"

Usagi shrugged, feeling a bit hypocritical for what she was about to say, "I can't really remember—it was a long time ago."

An awkward silence ensued.

When Usagi looked up, she was surprised to find Minako's lips set in a grim frown.

"What?"

It wasn't that she couldn't remember their names, because she could. She could even remember their mannerisms and looks quite vividly. It was just that she didn't like to dwell on the past. It wasn't like there had been strings attached and besides they stayed friends even after the intimacies. For example, Kou Seiya. Dark hair, bright eyes, big smile. Gentle and possesive, and somehow work-oriented. A musician and artist, but exasperatingly cocky and self-assured...

Wait.

She didn't like how familiar that sounded.

"Nothing," Minako grimaced.

"You're frowning and not looking at me," Usagi observed, pursing her lips sceptically, "it's obviously not nothing."

Minako remained quiet, only shifting her position across from her friend after further prompting, "Tell me, Minako."

"I don't know, Usagi-chan...it just...struck me as kind of unfair."

"What's unfair?"

She felt Minako's blue eyes search in her deeper ones, "How you treat Mamoru."

"How I treat Mamoru...?" Usagi had to tread carefully here.

"You always...look at him like he's..." Minako faltered, searching for an appropriate word, "like he's a terrible person."

Automatically, Minako sensed Usagi withdraw into herself, as the mischievous sparkle left the silver hints in her cerulean eyes.

"You know how I feel about people like him."

The statement was said with a neutral tone as far as Minako could tell, but the fact that Usagi said something like that—something so...so...unlike Usagi, made Minako...

Well...mad, really.

It made her mad.

Sure, Mamoru wasn't the best person around but no one's perfect, right?

When did her best friend suddenly get this self-righteous streak? And where did she get it from?

For as long as Minako could remember, it had been Usagi who broke the habit into to get to know someone before writing them off to be something they're not. But that's what Usagi did with Mamoru. She automatically assumed that Mamoru was a player who didn't care about other people's feeling, but if that was true—then why did Mamoru treat her civilly and never flirt with her?

He obviously did care—and Minako couldn't help but feel that despite his ways, Mamoru did not deserve to be judged by Usagi of all people. Usagi knew what it was to be judged, so why would she ever subject someone else to that?

"People like what? Usagi," it had to be serious if she dropped the nickname, "you're stereotyping him. Stereotypes are one of your pet peeves, along with hypocrisy...which is what you're exercising right now."

Damn, Usagi had forgotten how Minako could point such simple facts out to win an argument. She attested the change to her ever budding relationship with another blonde of a more sandy hue with hazel eyes.

"_I'm_ being hypocritical?" Usagi asked calmly, though there was a note of indignant disbelief that Minako heard.

"Yes," Minako said firmly, gaining fire, "you are."

"Fine..." Usagi relented nonchalantly yet calmly, "I'm a hypocrite."

There was a fierce glow to Minako's eyes now that Usagi had to admire since it was a rare sight.

She just didn't particularly appreciate what Minako said next.

"Usagi, you're impossible! What is it with you? Do you have some vendetta against men?"

The remark came out so fast that Minako had a hard time filtering the harsh tone out of it, but by then Usagi had already heard it. And judging from the stony silence that took place soon after, Minako had managed to hurt her friend's nearly invincible feelings.

Minako saw Usagi expertly hide a wince.

_Ouch_, Usagi thought, her the muscle at her jaw twitching slightly at the comment.

Minako held her breath and watched Usagi's eyes become distant as her movements were automatic—graceful nonetheless however—and watched her pack her portfolio and charcoal up to stand in a fluid motion and pivot. It wasn't long before Usagi disappeared behind the door of her bedroom as it shut to silent close.

The last thing Minako heard from her before she disappeared behind her bedroom door down the hall caused her to stiffen at the frigid tone used.

"Good night."

Shit.

_Good job, Minako_, the blonde congratulated herself at yet another failed attempt to get Usagi to warm up to her boyfriend's eccentrically handsome friend. She sighed, getting angry hadn't been a part of the plan.

It was obvious what she and Motoki wished.

Mamoru and Usagi had been alone for nearly their entire lives—Mamoru's companions didn't count, and Usagi rarely let herself be associated with a male of a status anymore than friendship. Besides, Mamoru could use some taming and Usagi could use livening up...though she lived her life much better than Minako did in some areas, her friend was definitely lacking in fulfillment.

Usagi didn't know it, but Minako could see faint traces of agitated attraction under her friend's tough exterior. It was obvious that there was something in Mamoru that Usagi liked—but wasn't willing to admit.

Her and her damn pride.

Why did she have to be so mature with everything else in her life and suddenly revert back to a preteen with pride when it came to relationships? Trust Usagi—so confident and independent—to have commitment issues.

She would never understand.

It frustrated her that she couldn't understand.

And has Minako heard the click of her now angry friend's door, she turned, padding to her own room for an early bedtime.

--

Usagi always thought that Sundays were the bane of her existence—not Mondays so to speak, but Sundays.

Why, you may ask?

Well... it was pretty much self explanatory. At least it was, once you heard the purely masculine voice that called out to her somewhere down the hall, and she paused in her steps, adjusting her shoulder bag and the books in her hands. And then she turned around, hoping against hope that it wasn't who she thought it was—the voice was a dead giveaway though.

_Sundays_ _suck_, Usagi thought, _that's_ _why_.

Not Mondays, but _Sundays_.

Because really, it was rather quite simple after all.

Friday was always a relief from a hard week of work. Saturdays were meant to party and chill, but the afternoon classes were a pain in the ass. And well, Mondays weren't nearly as bad as Sundays because Sundays were the day before Mondays. The day before another start of another long...painful...bored-out-of-her-mind week...

Well, maybe not, Usagi conceded, as another start of the week meant another week involving the ever evolving flirtations courtesy of Chiba Mamoru. The boy—or was he a man? She couldn't really tell anymore—did not know when to give up.

"And here we go again," she mutters to herself.

Honestly, she couldn't deal with this today. She'd spent the better half of the night tossing and turning in her sleep, contemplating one of the few major fights she'd ever had with Minako...over Mamoru of all people. Fuck it all, if she didn't feel like flashing a pretty smile.

"Usagi!"

Usagi blinked in deep confusion though, when she didn't feel the usual surge of annoyance in her veins.

Strange, she didn't seem to want to throttle him even though she didn't remember giving him permission to call to her so familiarly...but then again, Mamoru never really asked for anything—more like he demanded it or took without wondering whether he was even allowed. Unsurprisingly enough, Usagi found herself feeling a mild dislike for the sudden stand-to attention posture the female students around them took and even the shier ones as Motoki came into view not far behind his darker friend.

Strange that she and Minako had been talking about the two of them just last night...

She shrugged, brightening from her dark mood a smidgen—she'd become rather fond of Motoki as of late—Usagi gave a slight tilt of her mouth in the gesture of a smile and did not notice the stunned feeling Mamoru felt at what he thought was a smile directed at him...until he heard the words that came from her mouth next.

"Hey Motoki-kun."

Mamoru felt disconcerted by the blatant dismissal but did not show it and opted to push a sleeve of his black shirt up to his elbow—not fidgeting, mind you but...fixing it—as Motoki gave a smile just as exuberant. In the back of his mind, Mamoru vaguely remembered that Motoki's girlfriend was Usagi's best friend. What could he possibly have to worry about anyway?

"Hey Usagi-chan," Motoki grinned, returning the hug that Usagi initiated, "how are you?"

"A little tired, Motoki-kun. I'll be good in a bit though, thank you."

Mamoru's jaw ticked at the easy display of affection. Hadn't he been the one that talked to her more than Motoki and openly approach her? Why was it that all he got for his efforts to compliment her were blank stares or dead replies?

Usually when you called a girl good-looking that flattered her right?

He sighed.

Usagi was much more complicated than any other girls he had interacted with. Because no, he wasn't pursuing after her in a romantic sense—that was far too committed—nor was he going after her for a one-night-stand—though he figured it would be more than just fucking enjoyable on his part, those were some nice legs she had on her after all, showing through naturally faded shorts and boots that laced to below her knees for once.

Nice chest, too.

But enough of that—she was hot, point taken.

But he wasn't trying to get laid—he hadn't been for a while and he distantly wondered why but shrugged the inquisition off—Usagi wasn't one a person would want for a lay. A quick lay was only meant to happen once, and if you had someone like Usagi, Mamoru figured you wouldn't want to have her _just_ _once_.

He couldn't help but cough to cover up the smirk twitching at his mouth before he pretended to glance at the notes he held in his left hand for another drum pattern he'd come up with and wanted to have printed from the music department. It wouldn't do for Usagi to find out what he was thinking—because if he didn't know any better, it was like the girl could read his expressions already...

Which she could.

_There he goes again,_ Usagi thought, _he's thinking of sex_.

Horny moron.

Here she is, standing next to his best friend that was nearly considered one of hers now—and he was drinking up the sight of her exposed skin. The navy jacket she wore over her white tank top was conservative enough, but maybe she shouldn't have worn the shorts with the boots...even if it had grown bloody hot in the last couple weeks.

Usagi laughed half-heartedly at one of Motoki's jokes distractedly, as the ogling became more apparent by the warning sense in the back of her mind where she knew glares were blazing into her flesh by the way some parts felt warmer than others and she really couldn't stand the accusing stares any longer that suggested she wanted him staring.

Which she didn't.

How could she?

She wasn't attracted to him. Not in the least. Really, she wasn't burning with some unexplainable need to be ravished by him—experienced hands, sinful lips, cocky attitude and all.

That was the last thing she needed from him.

She inwardly frowned at her conscience's monologue.

When did it get so descriptive?

"Really, Chiba...how much longer are you going to stare at my legs?"

Mamoru smirked at the acknowledgement that she had noticed and ignored Motoki's warning glare. It seemed that his best friend had come to see Usagi as a sister over time. He supposed it was because of Minako's insistent demands that they spend time together and bond. He almost wished he had an excuse for that, but Motoki never asked him to bond with Minako even if he had nothing to worry since she wasn't Mamoru's type and more importantly, they were going out.

He wasn't a home-wrecker.

Remember?

"I wasn't staring."

"Uh huh, right. Look, let's just get this over with."

Mamoru raised a brow, "You mean you're actually waiting for me to tell you how good you look today?"

She pursed her lips, "Unsurprisingly, yeah."

Was that conceit right there?

"...so I can kick your ass for thinking about sexing me up again."

Mamoru gave a short laugh—never mind.

"Mamoru, undressing Usagi-chan with your eyes..." Motoki warned.

"Look, I wasn't undressing her with my eyes," Mamoru denied, further defending himself at the sceptical being given to him, "Seriously!"

Mamoru held his hands up in a gesture of peace when Motoki glared at him threateningly. His blonde friend sized him up with his eyes judging his innocence before grunting in a completely un-Motoki like way.

"You better not be, Mamoru," Motoki warned him before glancing at his watch, "I have to go. Class starts in a few minutes. I'll see you guys for lunch maybe?"

Motoki turned to look at Usagi, as though silently asking her to come.

She couldn't turn down that pleading face. It would be too cruel.

But she didn't _want to go..._

"Sure, Motoki-kun."

Damn, she'd just have to suck it up.

Motoki grinned, giving a brotherly kiss to Usagi's cheek and a quick nod to Mamoru, "See you guys later!"

And with that, Usagi was finally left one on one with Mamoru.

Wonderful.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm of enjoying my company, Usagi."

She glanced at him, "Oh...I said that out loud?"

Mamoru smirked blandly, "Doesn't seem like you care."

"I don't."

"Or...you're just saying that so my fan club doesn't rip you to shreds. Am I right, or am I right?"

"You're wrong."

"Oh, I see," he nodded to himself, "you're just saying that to lie to yourself about your strong attraction to me."

When he heard no sarcastic retort or disbelieving laugh from Usagi he became interested and turned to her in askance. And when he stared at her questioningly for a moment—wondering if he had, by some off chance, hit the nail on the head and that Usagi was warming up to him...his hopes were dashed.

Usagi sighed resignedly, "I don't have time for this today, Chiba. I'm fucking tired and don't have the patience for you today."

Interesting.

"Really? Why not?" he asked.

He noticed the way she regarded him with a calculating look, before she replied, "I didn't sleep last night."

Mamoru smirked, "Let me guess, spent all your energy for a single night of sin?"

"More like you did."

For a while, Mamoru didn't say anything. But he wondered at the tone in Usagi's voice and the posture of her stance. There was something off about her today, she didn't exude the normal fiery confidence in her insults...more like she was just throwing it out there for the sake of routine.

And what's more...

Was he..._worried?_

"Mamoru...?" Usagi voiced tentatively.

He was looking at her strangely.

He hadn't responded to her jibe—even if she knew it had been a weak one—but Mamoru was prone to wanting to have the last word. So why hadn't he made any move to taunt her for her lack of fire today? His jaw was tightened she noticed, his fingers flexing uncertainly around the spine of his textbook and his eyes were looking into hers deeply, searching for something. Maybe she'd been wrong.

But then, in a totally unexpected, unlike Mamoru way...

"Are you okay, Usagi?"

Mamoru paused at the breathless shock that laced Usagi's voice. "What...?"

He fidgeted uncomfortably—was it so shocking that he could show such blatant concern for another person's well-being? Jeez, you'd think he was heartless or something. Sure, he couldn't be brought to care about most things but sometimes a person couldn't help but worry, right?

_Am I...okay? _Usagi frowned incredulously, barely noticeable as Mamoru's voiced question from moments before repeated and echoed in her mind. She felt her breath catch—how could he possibly be worried about her health? All he ever did was flirt and stare and _annoy_ her. Why was it that he always seemed to surprise her?

_The guy doesn't make any sense_.

Almost uncertainly, Usagi swallowed and shoved the doubt to the back of her mind for later observance. Seriously, she didn't have the time for this. Right now, her next class was beginning she'd noticed, as students were already filing into the halls and it was left to become swarmed with human limbs, others weaving expertly around the two freshmen still standing speechlessly in front of the other. Mamoru watched as Usagi curled a strand of hair behind her ear with slender feminine fingers, before half pivoting away from him hesitating slightly before taking a decided step.

"I...I got to go, I'll see you at lunch with Motoki-kun, Chiba."

And though she felt mortified that she had stuttered for the first time in front of him, it couldn't be helped. As much as she didn't like him she had promised Motoki-kun that she would show up for lunch with them. Besides, she could comfort herself knowing that Mina-chan would most likely be there too.

Mamoru watched as confusion filtered into the opaque sea that was the electric blue of her eyes even as an unsteady realization seeped and overwhelmed the confusion and he was left staring back into the confidence that all but exuded Usagi as a whole. He wondered at that—why he'd even asked her that question, that is. Maybe if he could understand the reason why he asked it himself, he might be able to enjoy the fact that he had so easily managed to catch the ever unshakeable Usagi off guard.

He lifted a hand in a mild wave anyway though, nodding to acknowledge what she'd just said before he too, turned around and made his way to his classes, a little perturbed by how his impulses seemed to be getting the better of him more and more each day. So she was good-looking and he had a weakness for good-looking girls. That didn't mean he had to go out of his way to make sure she was comfortable. He still had a reputation of being a jackass to uphold—not that he _liked _being known as a jackass. Psht, who cared if she was alright?

_Jeez_, Mamoru shook his head while turning to walk down the hall, _I'm going out of my mind._

Still though, when he glanced back through the corner of his eye he saw Usagi pause before the round of the corner. She was biting her lip, thinking she'd be kicking herself for this later but going on with it anyway, never once looking back. A little concern for her well-being could be rewarded with some back, after all. She wasn't a mean person—stubborn and self-righteous maybe, but she cared...it wasn't like she hated Mamoru.

"Oh, and Chiba?" she didn't know how she knew, but she knew he heard her, "Just sleep through Hiromi-sensei's class—it's just a free block for reviewing...you look like shit."

As she walked down the hall, Usagi mused about how Mamoru was just annoying, but maybe she could come to...get along with him, some day...?

She snorted incredulously.

_Ridiculous. I'm being absurd._

Mamoru paused, letting the information sink in before deciding that he would get that extra hour of sleep he missed out on after all. He stopped. _Weird. _He wondered how Usagi managed to sound so concerned when her tone implied she could care less.

Maybe Usagi wasn't the only one who would be left to reassess her evaluations.

* * *

_TA-DA_

Okay, Chapter Seven is done! This is kind of like a transitional chapter though guys, so it's kind of like an intro that'll help me move onto more events in the story. Anyways, it feels good to be back.

And hopefully I won't stay away for too long again.

L8er,

ser3ne eternity.

_aka;;_**azuresass22.**

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

Almost Had You

* * *

Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

* * *

_"Can you hear it?" _

_"Hear what?"_

_"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."_

* * *

_TA-DA_

_"And I wondered, just how much longer it would take before I suddenly got used to having him around. I still can't decide whether that's a good thing or not...even though I should've already decided it was bad."_

_-Tsukino Usagi_

Chapter 8  
_beginning patterns_

_Unggghhhh._

"...As you all know, although physics cover a wide variety of phenomena, the fundamental main branches of physics are electromagnetism—including optics of course, relativity, thermodynamics and last but not least, quantum mechanics. Each of these theories has been tested in a numerous amount of vigorous experiments and have proven to be an accurate model of nature within its domain of validity.

"For example, classical mechanics correctly describes the motion of objects in everyday experience, but it breaks down at the atomic scale, where it is superseded by quantum mechanics, and at speeds approaching the speed of light, where relativistic effects become important...

"While these theories have long been well-understood, they continue to be areas of active research—for example, a remarkable aspect of classical mechanics known as chaos theory was developed in the 20th century, three centuries after the original formulation of mechanics by Isaac Newton, who we all know lived during the time of 1642 to 1727. The basic theories form a foundation for the study and research of more specialized topics—"

_Shuuuut. Uuuup!_

Really, he was lucky this class was such a cinch for him...everybody else seemed to have such a hard time—he remembered seeing Usagi's less than stellar mark on their last report. Usagi had been telling the truth when she had let him know that the day's class would be focusing on reviewing everything they had covered so far in an early preparation for the midterms. Yet much to Mamoru's ire, he had been unable to fall asleep for most of the class like she had suggested. It was unfathomable! Like what the hell, what else did you need to fall asleep? It was a perfect place to doze after all, considering the lecture was boring as hell that not even he couldn't act like he was interested.

Tch, he must have lucked out to get the double block review class.

Mamoru struggled to last through the few minutes left of the class and at the slamming and opening of doors along the length of the hallway, he shot up in his seat from behind a barrier of notebooks under the guise of taking notes and admitted to himself that he had never felt more relieved to be free of Hiromi-sensei's mindless droning on a subject that he could hardly believe he did so well in.

He watched as Hiromi-sensei removed her glasses in an action that signalled the end of their class and almost found himself dreading that the thought of being out in the outdoors free from the bloody classroom would be just that—a thought.

He stuffed his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he walked through the class door. He raked a hand through his dishevelled hair and remembered that he would be spending his lunch accompanied by Motoki, Usagi—and if Motoki was there—most likely, Minako. He glanced at the time on his cell phone, before deciding to drop his stuff off at his dorm that was a five minute walk away.

Mamoru stepped up the flight of stairs nimbly, three steps at a time while holding the strap of his bag to prevent it from moving too much. After a few more minutes of this, he'd finally reached the hall of his dorm on the fourth floor still silently cursing that the elevator was under repairs for the time being when a freshman he knew vaguely from chemistry pulled a juvenile prank with knowledge gained from their course on _combustible_ _materials_. Mamoru paused, catching his breath and then straightened to his full height. He walked down the hall, idly glancing to the side and reading the golden numbers.

_400, 401, 402, 403...404...and 405._

Stopping at the door, Mamoru fished through his pockets for the keys and took his time unlocking the door. The door swung open with ease to reveal the leather couches, the big screen tv and the black iron coffee table of their entertainment room. Mamoru dropped his bag to the side where it sat against the entrance to the kitchen and he glanced out at the sky through the window, taking note of the bright disk of light burning behind wisps of clouds through the window in rare appreciation. He could see a familiar figure making their way through the courtyard, and Mamoru marvelled at the silken silver Usagi's hair glowed under the sunlight.

She was wearing a top closely resembling a bikini. It was the closest he'd ever seen of so much of her skin—from the glistening of her skin, he had to wonder what exactly she'd been doing...

There was a beeping at his waist and a vibrating in his pocket. Mamoru glanced at the caller ID of his phone before sliding it open and turning away from the delectable sweat soaked image Usagi made through the window.

The door shut behind him as he answered, locking it, "What's up?"

"Hey, Mamoru. Listen, I just got out of class so I'm running a little late 'cause I have to get Mina. I told Usagi-chan we'd meet her at the eastern courtyard so I was wondering—"

"I know, I saw her. You want me to go wait for you with her right?"

There was a slight pause from the other end, letting Mamoru know of the slight shock Motoki was feeling at the way he seemed to be willing to cooperate and do as he wanted. As far as Motoki knew, he had come to believe that ever since Mamoru had been properly introduced to Usagi he had held no tolerance for her. Simply the mentioning of the bombshell's name, and there would be an uncomfortable glitter to his best friend's eye and a twitch at the corner of his mouth, indicating that he didn't quite know what to say about Usagi.

She'd certainly been different from the other girls Mamoru usually associated himself with...

"Err, well...that is," Motoki stuttered, "would you mind...?"

Mamoru passed a surreptitious glance at Usagi through the window where she stopped below a tree to rummage through the duffle bag she had with her, before throwing her head back to gulp down a generous amount of water. He found it slightly intriguing, following the graceful curve of her neck, and absently wondered why she wasn't wearing the shirt she was wearing when he saw her earlier that day. He pursed his lips as Usagi wiped what he assumed was sweat from her slightly flushed face. Her lips opened partially in a wistful sigh and she leaned back against the tree...

She looked so calm and at ease, so different from whenever he encountered her to find her with her guard fiercely up and her eyes smoldering with defiance as though he was trying to get her to do something against her will. The sight made Mamoru pause for thought and looking at Usagi like this—serene and thoughtful—made him come to the realization that he wouldn't really mind being around her, if it meant that he was around to see her like this. After all, she was such a force to be reckoned with most of the time that he had a hard time imagining what it would be like to get along with her.

Maybe he should try it out. All he'd ever been to her was a nuisance—what would it be like to be something else?

"Fine."

"Thanks, man."

Motoki grinned from where he stood in the hallway, as Minako came out from her design class. With his phone still attached to his ear despite the sound that signalled Mamoru had ended the connection and he waved at her and felt his grin soften into a smile when her face lit up at the sight of him. He absently closed his phone shut before placing it in the pocket of his jeans, already anticipating his vivacious girlfriend's next actions, his hazel eyes never leaving her.

"Motoki-kun!" Minako grinned, launching herself at her boyfriend. She laughed cheerfully when he caught her around her waist and twirled her around in the air through a perfect circle and Minako gave him a swift kiss to the cheek when her high heels touched the ground again, "So, where to?"

Motoki kissed her forehead, smiling as she sighed contently, "Well, you're free for the rest of the day since you had early classes right? So I was thinking we could go out to lunch. Usagi-chan's coming and Mamoru will be there, too."

For a moment, an excited squeal escaped Minako before she paused, as the last sentence from her boyfriend's mouth registered.

"Are you sure it's such a good idea for Usagi-chan and Mamoru-san to be around each other?" she asked, "I mean, I have no problem with them both coming since I love Usagi-chan like a sister, and Mamoru-san has been quite decent to me, but the last time we went to eat with the four of us together it was, well kind of..._explosive._"

Motoki grimaced, "I guess we'll just have to grin and bear it then, since they're already waiting for us in the courtyard."

When Motoki and Minako finally got to the courtyard, they were met with an unexpected sight.

--

Meanwhile Usagi yawned, stretching her arms up and arching her back languidly before fixing her boots and unzipping the navy jacket she had placed over the black bikini-like top she wore earlier in dance. She was tired and hot and come to think of it, she was starving. After being in physics so early in the morning only to have it followed by history and dance, her mind and body were thoroughly taxed to their limit for the day. She was only grateful that she had gotten her morning classes over with and that she would be free for the rest of the day.

She leaned back against the tree, dropping her duffel bag to the ground being anything but serene and thoughtful as Mamoru perceived her to be.

She had done horribly in dance today with her thoughts too scattered and her focus so below average and distracted by the obvious concern Mamoru had shown her and she had paid for her distraction with a full extra few minutes of ab conditioning while the rest of her class was dismissed. The exercise had been no walk in the park as Mizuki-sensei hadn't been feeling overly kind. Not to mention, Hiromi-sensei had ripped her a new one, once again...

She scoffed bitterly.

He was probably just caught off guard by the fact that he wasn't getting such a painful tongue lashing from her like normal. He couldn't possibly have been worried...could he? They were barely even acquaintances, since it was obvious they weren't friends. And why did she waste so much thought on him being unneccesarily indecisive?

Maybe it was the guilt Minako had planted into her overly sensitive gut the night before. Apparently guilt went hand in hand with insomnia, considering Usagi hadn't slept a wink and it frustrated her that she couldn't understand what her instincts were telling her. What was it about Mamoru that set her nerves on the fritz? Why did she even care? It seemed like all she'd done since she'd met him was question herself and it irked her to no end.

And yet...she thought that maybe it was her hallucinating, but she noticed that her ever present irritation for Mamoru had softened and that she occasionally found herself impulsively following urges to be..._civil_ to him...at least by her standards. She'd even contemplated being nicer to him if she saw him this morning after what Minako had so harshly implied the night before and after her bumping into him this morning and leaving she'd made a decision to play nice.

Maybe it was the childish need to be compassionate from her preteen years resurfacing...or was she losing her mind?

Her lips pursed and unbidden, a thought blared screaming bright red so that she choked on her water.

Was she beginning to _like him?!_

The water bottle in her hand clattered to the sidewalk from her nerveless fingers as the thought echoed obnoxiously loud against the walls of her mind.

No way, she couldn't!

How could she possibly like him? All the evidence pointed to the conclusion that she absolutely detested the guy. There was no way in hell.

How could she, when the afternoon they had been forced to spend in each other's company had been strained so badly she would've pulled her own hair out if she were a lesser being. The lunch—whatever that _'meeting'_ had been—had been excruciatingly long. At the time, there had been a lot of strained small talk and haughty looks between the more intense pair of the foursome—obviously Usagi and Mamoru, of course and not to mention that there were many times where Minako and Motoki had to make sure they laughed at every comment made by the two just to alleviate the tension that would ascend to dangerous heights if anything didn't serve as an interruption.

And whenever there was an interruption—courtesy of Motoki and Minako—Mamoru and Usagi would simmer down and gulp their drinks down aggressively without really feeling the scalding burn the hot coffee left in their mouths.

Thankfully, when this happened there would be a few moments of peace where Mamoru would become unresponsive, becoming caught up in his boredom and resorting to entertain himself with the attractive waitresses while Usagi on the other hand, had tensely sat beside her friend—who was more in-your-face with her PDA than usual, mind you—and tried to enjoy her dessert with at least some semblance of comfort and enjoyment. And if Minako pushed hard enough, Usagi would even answer some of Mamoru's questions, but determinedly deflected any hints of flirtation.

She had refused—and still did!—to be put in the same category of his fans.

Needless to say the air that had surrounded the foursome that day had served as entertainment for the people on shift and there had been many turning heads whenever Mamoru and Usagi would acknowledge each other with barely restrained hostility or forced civility.

Because the restrained hostility usually won out over the forced civility and it was like watching a sparring match with words being hurled as the metaphorical jabs and hooks, making a contest out of who could bruise each other's pride first...or at least leave the other speechless in the dust...in the end it hadn't even mattered that their server hadn't gotten a tip—the unexpected entertainment on the slow day had been gratifying enough...

In the end, the whole meeting had been sour and a complete damper for the blonde couple considering they were constantly distracted from their attempts at secrecy when making out just to play referee while Usagi and Mamoru played verbal sparring and forced themselves to remain present due to their duty as title of best friend to the counterparts of the couple. Really though, Motoki and Minako only wished they would have just left to put them all out of their misery instead.

So really, Usagi couldn't possibly like him. That couldn't be what her gut was telling her. Surely it was just the weather, because that was ridiculous! Usagi cursed Minako for planting the seeds of doubt into her mind, and Mamoru for being so damn _Mamoru_. Just because she was trying to be nice didn't mean she liked him! It was human nature to play sweet after feeling guilty, if only to get rid of the gnawing sensation. Besides, he'd looked so pitifully pathetic with the look of stress clinging so stubbornly to his features. Yeah, that's it. It was just the guilt. It wasn't like he needed her watching out for him, it was just a gesture done out of spontaneous kindness.

Besides, he drove her beyond crazy and rattled her wits and temper about her like it was the easiest thing in the world. He was intrusive, just barging into her life like he did and finding a way to mold into it. He had no right! It was bad enough he got such passionately violent reactions from her, she didn't need her mind trying to betray her either.

So no. She didn't like him. Not one bit. It was impossible.

_Impossible. _

Even if she had been concerned for that one moment of weakness, it didn't mean a thing. It was barely even a second.

_And really, there's nothing wrong with showing I have a heart_—

"Talking to yourself now, Usagi? You realize that that's the first stage of insanity, right?"

_Eep!_

Usagi whipped around so fast that she stumbled forward in a surprisingly ungraceful display she hadn't had since she was in middle school. She was stunned to find Mamoru no more than a few feet away and drinking in the sight of her at the barest she'd ever been in front of him, but before she could open her mouth out of habit to spout something terribly unkind and unlike her at him, the loss of her balance made itself known. It shocked her as the sudden momentum from her pushing off against her compromised seat and the speed of her turn had the breeze carrying her hair in a mesmerizing display, propelling her by where the toe of her boot caught on her dance duffel bag she had so carelessly dropped the moment before. How could she have possibly forgotten it was even there?!

Shit, she was getting scatterbrained now, too. And now she was going to pay for it by falling flat on her face on the cruel, cruel sidewalk with it's damn cracks that would break her mother's back. Just imagining it left her horrified. She was sure the expression of sheer terror and shock frozen on her face would be priceless blackmail from Mamoru in later days...

She was never going to live this down.

The irony of her being a dancer and klutzing out caused a morbid amusement and mild mortification to well in her chest as her hands blindly shot out to take the impact and Usagi winced at the impending scrapes that would make it hard to hold a pen for notes in Hiromi-sensei's class. As she fell, she saw her water bottle roll through the corner of her eye and she distinctly heard the dull thud of books falling to the ground and the fluttering of papers flying into the air while a set of footsteps came rushing to her and when the impact came—her eyes widened and her breath got trapped in her throat—it was a different type of solid that greeted her weight.

The severity of her situation hadn't quite hit her yet and Usagi wondered why she felt no sting, no bruise, no _crash_ that jarred her bones and made her dizzy. She stayed still for a few moments, her mind running and scrambling to come up with a plausible explanation—and still...she didn't understand. There should've been blood trickling down her hands and knees by now, dirt and more dirt in the open wounds that she should've had, the sting of pain should've been tingling at her conscience. So why wasn't it? It was like her sense of reality had been stripped away from her and she couldn't think properly.

Instead of feeling the unforgiving and scorched sidewalk blemished with pebbles of rock and grains of gravel that she felt beneath her hands and knees, it was the hardness of a body, the feel of soft fabric against her cheek and a heartbeat beneath her ear. Usagi felt strong, capable arms wrapped around her waist and her soft, curvaceous body pulled flush against a masculine one that was toned and so utterly male—oh, God.

It was a body, so utterly _him. _

The horror that fired through Usagi moments before sky-rocketed to appalling heights—it came so fast that she heard herself gasp.

_Oh God, oh God, oh my God._

_Never_ had Usagi felt so humiliated and...and so..._not herself_.

He had caught her. In a sickeningly cliché way, that absolutely stole her breath with surprise.

_Correction. _

She was never going to live _this_ down.

Mamoru wasn't sure how it happened. One moment he'd been taunting Usagi out of habit, but trying not to incur her wrathful comebacks as it was merely a friendly comment. The next moment, the dazed, troubled look on her face snapped to attention and he'd watched as she turned so quickly to him in a way that should've given her whiplash only for her to trip over a duffel bag so shockingly and unceremoniously _unlike _her that he'd dropped his textbooks and hadn't even cared that his notes flew out of the cover of the one binder he had with him.

It was only when he'd realized that she was falling forward and couldn't stop herself did he suddenly find himself moving the short distance between them to catch her. The out-of-body experience left him disoriented when he felt her come into contact with his chest and her arms sling themselves instinctively around his neck. Her jacket had become dishevelled in her near fall and it was only when Mamoru felt the bare skin of the small of her back beneath his fingertips did he realize the intimate position they'd taken.

Shit.

For God's sake, she hadn't changed out of that skimpy top he'd seen her wearing through the window, and now she was draped all over him where he felt every dip and curve, could see every bit of skin—the skin of her mid-thigh to below her knees from her boots and shorts, the skin of her collarbone where her hair fell into the collar of her jacket, the skin of her flat stomach and he could _feel_ the perfect curve of her back.

_Holy_ _shit._

He couldn't help but stare speechlessly as she raised her wide eyes to meet his own. There was a heat burning beneath the surface between them both and both were uncomfortable to find that they couldn't move. He felt like there was something he should say. Something he should've been asking her. But for all the natural cleverness, for all the social prowess and sexual experience he had...the words escaped and slipped from his mind like a river and he could only look straight back t her. It was such an innocent way that it all happened, and yet it felt so erotic.

Mamoru watched as the slight flush on Usagi's face from whatever she'd been doing before, deepened a slight shade and he had to wonder if she was blushing from exertion or embarrassment. The smell of rain and roses assaulted his nose and it made him wonder what she used on her hair. There were suddenly all these questions he had about her that he wanted answers to and he couldn't help but wonder why.

He put it off to the close contact and oppressive heat.

"I...uhmm...I...sorry," Usagi fumbled for the first time in a while and Mamoru felt something inside mourn when her hands moved from where they rested at the nape of his neck to his chest as though to push him away, yet it was strangely endearing that she would suddenly stutter and look so incredibly shy. He never thought he'd ever get the chance to put those adjectives in the same sentence as her name.

When Usagi looked back up she saw Mamoru smile at her, _I don't think I've ever seen such a normal smile from him before...it's not even a smirk_—

It was enough to make her pause—but then she heard what he said next.

"I hadn't realized you were capable of being shy."

Wait. _What?_

Reality jerked back into motion and shoved her back into alertness, before she could even compute the words she blurted out.

"I am _not_ _shy—!_"

"_Woah! _What are you guys doing?!" Motoki gaped. He'd asked Mamoru to do a simple favor of waiting with Usagi for him while he went to get Minako and now he found him holding Usagi in his arms as though he were going to kiss her! Is that why his friend hadn't protested to waiting with her?

Usagi stopped mid-rant, and suddenly the implications of her somewhat compromising words hit her full force. Here she was, in an _extremely_ suspicious situation—with Mamoru!—and she had declared, almost angrily that she wasn't shy. While his arms were still wrapped tightly around her bare back. If Motoki and Minako didn't make the accusations she was expecting to she'd be holding her breath. What college student wouldn't automatically assume they were talking about _that? _They'd have had to be a virgin, not to jump to those conclusions first hand...and nowadays, virgins probably only came a dime a dozen—maybe not even at that.

_Oh God, _she moaned inwardly in despair, _why have you forsaken me so?_

Minako stared on, stunned. The new shirt she remembered to bring Usagi to change into after memorizing her schedule hung limply from her hand. Sure, she'd told her friend to give Mamoru a chance, but she didn't mean like _this. _Gasp! Maybe Mamoru had been macking on Usagi all along!

_Without them knowing!_

"Have you guys been sneaking around behind our backs?!"

The accusation rung in the four's ears, obnoxiously loud. It was an impulsive action to blurt it out like she did, but the more Minako saw Usagi flabberghasted and unsuccessfully emitting a sound, the tenser she became. Motoki himself felt so many turbulent emotions that he couldn't even begin to recognize which he should feel—anger, or happiness to congratulate.

Mamoru grinned wickedly at the telltale sight of Usagi's horror on her beautiful face, before deciding he absolutely loved the way it looked on her.

"Well, we were going to tell you but—"

Motoki suspected that when he got his wits about him, the former would win his attention.

"_No!_" Usagi blurted none too tactfully in her shock, "Absolutely not!"

No, they weren't going to tell them...or no, as in no?

"Then why are your arms still wrapped around Mamoru's neck?!"

Usagi shoved Mamoru rather harshly away from her instantly.

"I _fell! _Okay? I just tripped and he caught me!"

Even Motoki looked incredulously at her and Mamoru raised a smug brow as though wondering if that was the best she could do. Damn, even to her, it sounded ridiculously like she was lying. And badly, at that. But this time she wasn't even lying! Couldn't she pull off a decent act when she'd done it so many times before...? Stupid Mamoru, as if he could do better!

It was a little amusing, Mamoru thought as he watched Usagi lose the most composure he'd ever seen her do with her arms akimbo in wild gestures as she argued with Minako and Motoki in order to save face.

"Why would I _ever _want to _hug Mamoru?!_"

Her face scrunched up and in her ire, she had completely forgotten to address him by his last name.

Minako pointed accusingly at her tight top and bare stomach, "You're a _dancer, _you don't just _trip!"_

Usagi stood stock still, feeling rather than seeing the way Mamoru raked his eyes up and down her figure with renewed interest. Utterly mortified that Minako had let the info of her major slip at a moment like this, Usagi wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her whole. Really, the least her friend could've done was made an excuse for her after all the times she saved her sorry ass out of pure kindness. It's not like she'd ever left her to rot in the deepest pits of embarrassment, but _no. _Instead, Minako threw her to the sharks for fish bait and never looked back. The flake.

She'd never, ever, _ever_ live this down.

_Ooh, _she was going to _kill_ Minako.

* * *

_TA-DA_

Agh, finally! It took me forever to finally get the time to write this chapter. But yeah, that's pretty much it so far. Review if you have any questions you'd like answered. Bye guys. I'll probably edit this later. I've rearranged some things after rereading this story and deciding I wasn't entirely satisfied, so some chapters have a few alterations to them. Really though, chapter 9's coming soon...sorry, it's just that there's school and you know...thanks for your patience.

_ser3ne eternity._

_aka;;_**azuresass22.**

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

No, this is not a chapter. Sadly. This is an author's note just to let you guys know that while my pen name isn't the same anymore, I'm still the same person writing this story and the stories I had on my other account. If you have any questions just give me a PM, as I would rather your questions not be counted in the review count so it'll be easier for me to find things if you do submit something. I'll be writing out a chapter 9 soon enough though. For now, here are the stats _Almost Had You _originally acquired when I first posted it.

_Almost Had You _

Genre: Romance/Drama/Humor  
Words: 49096  
Chapters: 8  
Reviews: 29  
Hits: 4827  
Favs: 16  
Alerts: 24

See you around.

-ser3ne eternity.

_aka;;_ azuresass22.


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